Indistinguisable From Magic
by MidKnight Rider
Summary: This started out as part of my Sunshine and Shadow series and then got WAY bigger and WAY more about just SG1 so now it's a stand alone story. SG1 on an S&R mission looking for the missing members of SG8. Finally finished.
1. Chapter 1

**Indistinguishable From Magic**

**This story actually started life as a short little chapter in my Sunshine and Shadow story arc. Then it got bigger… and bigger, until it was more about SG1 than Daniel and Jillian. Jillian is my OC and her whole story is in Sunshine and Shadow.**

In spite of his impatience with the situation and his need to talk to Jillian about it as soon as possible, Daniel paused in the door of the lab just to look at her for a moment. No matter the immediate issue at any given time, Daniel was always a little thunderstruck when he hadn't seen her in a while.

Her features – full lips, and high cheekbones, delicate eyebrows, the line of her neck as it flowed into her jaw – were a conspiracy of loveliness. It stopped his heart. Every time.

He managed a certain amount of dignity as he walked across the room and joined her at the lab table. Jillian was bent over rows of artifacts, ranging from tiny bits of china to large hammered metal plates. Sheets of yellow lined paper were filled with her hand writing and her laptop screen was filled with columns and tables. She was also wearing her reading glasses – something he thought made her look brilliant and, if possible, even sexier.

He brushed her hair – currently a heavy braid the color of newly minted autumn leaves – out of the way and kissed her ear.

"Ciao, bella," he murmured in a voice lined in velvet.

Daniel felt a tender shiver run down her spine. He had rarely known anyone who could keep up with him linguistically. It was a blessing when there was no word or phrase in English to describe a particular thing; and that was often the case. He had also discovered that she found certain languages - especially Italian - unbearably erotic; and _that_ was an incredible turn on for him.

"E questo un tentativo di seduzione?" she asked.

His fingers were still gentle on the back of her neck, making little swirls on her skin.

"Sta funzionando?"

Jillian turned and pushed her glasses up to rest on the top of her head. She put her hands on either side of his face. Emerald eyes – the only jewels she ever wore – glittered.

"Si," she whispered, right before her lips found his.

He reached for her hips, felt the curve of them fill his hands as he pulled her closer.

But as pleasant as this was and as often as he had fantasized about sweeping things off the table in the lab and taking Jillian in whatever way she would allow, it really wasn't the time or place; and never would be.

She knew it too. She pulled away, kissed the corner of his mouth one last time and asked,

"So what _did_ you come down here for?"

"I need your help," he admitted, "I sent a file to your laptop."

Jillian carefully moved some of her notes and called her up email. The file was all of Daniel's data about P3C-328.

"This is SG1's next assignment," she said.

Daniel sighed and leaned one hip on the table.

"It was," he said," We've been drafted into helping the Enkarans instead."

Jillian heard the odd tone in his voice and knew Daniel was being torn. P3C-328 promised to be one of the 'Great Finds in the History of the SGC.' But the Enkarans had to be evacuated to another planet before they were wiped out as a race. Daniel was caught between his passion for history (coupled with his need to destroy the Goa'uld) and his deeply compassionate humanitarian soul. His forehead was creased, making a fine web of lines between his heavy brows.

Hammond had taken the choice from him, however, if SG1 had been drafted into service to the Enkarans.

"I've barely glanced at this, Daniel," Jillian said, "I thought you were going to cover it, and that you wanted someone working on cataloguing these around the clock."

"I was," he said, "and I do."

He paused when something on one of the yellow pages caught his eye. He pointed to it and grinned at her a little, "And you and I will probably have an argument over that particular hypothesis."

Jillian grinned back. There was very little she enjoyed more than a spirited archaeological debate with Daniel – except perhaps several spirited hours of love making. It was part of the joy. She loved disagreeing with Daniel as much as she did agreeing with him. But she was prepared to stand her ground on this one.

"Daniel, that's a geofact, not an artifact. It's natural, not a man made spear point; and _that _is a collar for a pet not a bracelet."

"It's inscribed with a name isn't it?" Daniel asked.

"It says _qandi_ – Sugar. Does that sound like a pre-Islamic woman's name to you?"

Daniel took a deep breath, prepared to launch into the arguments then got instantly sidetracked as his lingual gift kicked in.

"No it doesn't. That's where we get the word candy isn't, it? I always knew it didn't have a Latin base…" He paused again and shook his head to clear it, "Okay, we can talk about all this later. But now SG8 is going to do the recon on P3C-328 and I asked them to take you. You're the only one I trust with this."

Jillian watched the MALP footage scroll across her screen. The familiar form of a pyramid rose like a stone volcano above the forest in the distance. It was coated in white. It's peaked was tipped in gold.

"I'm not an Egyptologist, Daniel," Jillian protested, weakly. But her eyes were riveted to the images. She was just as enchanted as he was, instantly distracted from ancient triangular rocks.

"You lived in Cairo. You did post graduate work at the Cairo University. You can read hieroglyphs as well as I can," Daniel pointed out. "Jill, it's just recon in the area of the Gate. I just need as much of it recorded as possible and you'll know what you're looking for."

She glanced at him.

"And look at the pillars in front of the DHD," Daniel went on. Long fingers traced the image on her screen without touching it.

The pillars bore the etchings of the Roman numerals one and two. They were topped by a distinctly Romanesque statue of a man's head, complete with flowing hair, long beard, crown of laurel leaves and piercing eyes.

Jillian lifted an elegant eyebrow quizzically.

"Definitely not Egyptian, though we know the Egyptian and Roman Empires co-existed," she observed. "The timeline of Earth seems to have little meaning out there." She sounded distracted, once again hungrily looking at the screen.

"So you'll go?" He asked, with a mix of confidence and hope.

Jillian managed to tear her gaze away from the laptop and immediately got ensnared by intense pale blue eyes.

"You know I can't deny you anything," she said, with a smile both hopeless and sultry. "When do we leave?"

"In an hour," Daniel said.

Now her eyes flew open.

"An hour! Daniel!" Jillian shut her laptop and looked frantically at the array of pictures and notes on the table, "You get to clean this up then. I have to go get ready."

She turned and had almost run out the door when she abruptly spun around and came back. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled him down into another passionate kiss.

"Be careful," she whispered.

"You too," he urged.

Daniel let go of her reluctantly. He felt better about P3C-328, though he hated asking her to go.

He also had no way of knowing that things were about to go very, very wrong.

(0)


	2. Chapter 2

In the end Daniel never made it to P5S-381. SG8 had gone through the Gate hours ahead of them and then the Russians had shut them down. The Russians.

It still made Daniel grind his teeth.

Instead of helping the Enkarans, Daniel and the rest of SG1 had found themselves helping the Russians.

Now he was back, regrouping mentally, and heading back to the SGC. He was a bit concerned that he hadn't been able to get Jillian on the phone – either her cell or her landline.

He pulled into the parking lot at the same time Jack did. They fell in step with each other from long habit and headed for the entrance.

"Do you know where SG8 is? I haven't been able to reach Jillian," Daniel asked.

"Are we still _in_ the parking lot?" Jack asked in return.

Daniel shrugged and failed at not looking worried.

"I thought if something happened, you would know," he said.

Jack started to make another glib comment but glanced at Daniel first. Daniel wasn't kidding. He was worried, truly and sincerely worried in the way only a man who had lost everything _could _worry.

That was something Jack understood.

"I probably would and I haven't heard a thing. Zip. Nada," he said, quietly, "So that's good right?"

Daniel didn't say anything. He just kept walking with his eyes straight ahead and his brows furrowed.

"She's probably just off world," Jack said.

Daniel nodded but didn't look convinced.

Any hope either of them had that everything was just fine was shattered when they found an Airman waiting for them with a request from General Hammond to come to his office.

The men exchanged a short conversational look and then tried to seem normal as they walked to Hammond's office. Daniel was strung like a live wire. But he had learned that panic was frowned on in the military, as was the spreading of unnecessary alarm.

Whatever was going on it seemed most of the SGC already knew anyway. Daniel was too inwardly focused to notice that everyone they passed was trying much too hard not to look at them. Jack, who always seemed to be half asleep and relaxed, didn't miss a thing.

Sam and Teal'c were already in Hammond's office. Sam wasn't trying to hide her nerves. Teal'c was standing like a pillar.

Daniel found himself pinned by Hammond's gaze the moment they walked in the door.

"First of all," Hammond began without preamble, "She's going to be fine, but Dr. North is in the infirmary recovering from injuries sustained on P3C-328."

Shock trickled down their spines like ice water.

"What the hell happened?" Daniel demanded.

"Where's the rest of SG8?" Jack said at the same time.

"The Gate on P3C-328 is surrounded by a circle of those pillars. Some kind of defensive system was tripped when they walked between two of them. Captain Davidson, Dr. North and Airman Lawrence were separated from Col. Mallory. Lawrence and Dr. North were both injured, but Lawrence was mobile and Capt. Davidson left them to go find Mallory. When we got our Gate activated and realized we couldn't contact them, I sent in a rescue team. They found Lawrence and North, but neither Mallory nor Davidson has been seen," Hammond paused, then went on in his quiet voice, "We sent another rescue team but the system has reset. No one can pass between any the pillars until we figure out how to turn it off."

Daniel was frozen for a moment. Then he gestured over his shoulder towards the exit.

"C-c-can I go?" he asked, already starting to back up.

Hammond nodded and Daniel bolted out the door.

Sam spoke up.

"Sir?" She was addressing Jack.

O'Neill understood what she wanted. She wanted one of them to be there for Daniel and at the moment she was the most expendable.

"Go," he said, ending their two word conversation.

Sam took off after Daniel.

Jack and Hammond exchanged a long steady look.

"So what do we do?" Jack asked finally.

"I need a team to go in and find out how to turn that field off; a team that has the technical and linguistic expertise to handle it."

Jack nodded.

"Looks like SG1 is going to P3C-328 after all," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel must have had more luck with the elevator than Sam did. He was already in the Infirmary, standing toe to toe with Janet Frasier. Sam could see Jillian in one of the beds, but Janet had Daniel effectively blocked from going any further.

Daniel seemed torn between getting to Jillian and listening to the doctor tell him what had happened.

"She has a mild concussion, dehydration and several badly infected wounds on her back from shrapnel," Janet was saying, "When she came in she also had dislocated shoulder.

"Has she woken up?" Daniel asked. He was listening intently, though his eyes were riveted across the room.

"Not since we brought her in a few hours ago."

"Sedative?"

"No, just pain killers and antibiotics," Janet paused and took a breath. Some of the ferocity went out of her expression, replaced with sympathy. Everyone knew Daniel had become over protective of the ones he cared about. No one blamed him for it. "She's going to be fine, Daniel. She needs to rest."

"I want to sit with her until she wakes up," Daniel insisted.

Sam put her hand on his arm.

"Daniel," she began.

He rounded on her fiercely, blue eyes ignited with frustration.

"It was supposed to be us, Sam. That planet was our assignment. I _asked _her to go in my place."

Daniel looked pleadingly back at Janet, who nodded.

"Okay, but be quiet. Let her wake up on her own."

Janet stepped out of the way. But before Daniel could take a step forward Sam restrained him again.

"I'm going to go find Scott Lawrence and see what happened. I'll come back, all right?"

Daniel gave her a long grateful look and then dragged a chair to Jillian's bedside. He sank into it as the shock set in.

He had never seen her look so pale. Her skin was nearly translucent, with a pattern of dark purple bruises along her cheek and forehead. There was a bandage on her left temple, over a wound that probably caused her concussion. Her left arm was strapped to her body. Daniel assumed that was the shoulder she had dislocated. Most of her body was covered by the utilitarian blanket; only the arm containing the IV was exposed. Daniel had positioned the chair so that he could put his hand over hers, gently, as if she was made of glass.

That was how Sam found him a little while later. She went to stand behind him and handed him a coffee mug with wisps of steam rising from it. In her other hand she had the book that had been open on his desk – _Combined Mythologies of Egypt and Rome._

Daniel looked amazed.

"You brought me coffee, and the book I was reading? How did you know?"

Sam rolled her eyes.

"We've been together almost every day for four years, Daniel," she pointed out.

He continued to look puzzled, sipping at the coffee cautiously while pondering that.

"I'm not sure I would know what to do for you, if the situation was reversed," he murmured.

Sam put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Yes you would," she whispered, certainly.

A painful tumult of emotions cascaded through Daniel. He couldn't remember ever being so grateful to Sam or so glad of her presence; nor could he remember being so filled with guilt or fear over Jillian. He couldn't remember wanting anyone to wake up as badly as he wanted to see Jillian's eyes open and hear her voice again.

Typically, he wrapped all those emotions up tight and set them aside. He reached up to link his fingers briefly with Sam's.

"Did you find Scotty?" he asked.

"He was with the Colonel. He's still there."

"Do you know more about what happened?"

"Jillian was lagging behind, reading the inscriptions on one of the pillars. Mallory and Davidson went ahead, through the pillars and then, according to Scotty, all hell broke loose. He was with Jillian and they got caught in a blast. He got to her and dragged her from the pillar in a straight line to a tree and then into the forest. They found a hollow tree and Captain Davidson stayed with them for a little bit, until he knew they were both stable and then went to find Mallory. SG3 found Scotty and Jillian yesterday before the system reset. You know the rest."

Sam kept her voice calm, military matter of fact. He heard her do it before – deliver a difficult report in the most professional tone. If Daniel had turned around he would have seen the distress in her face. It was the same haunted, bleak look that shadowed Daniel's eyes.

"It seems we've found another society that isn't used to anything good coming through the Gate," Daniel observed, in a voice that matched his eyes.

He drank more of the hot liquid Sam had brought him, letting the warmth revive him a little from the shock.

"It was supposed to be us," he repeated.

"I know," Sam squeezed his shoulder again. Her voice was soothing, but misty, "Teal'c and the Colonel would have taken point. You would have been drawn to the writing on the pillar. I would have lingered with you, trying to stop you from falling too far behind….."

Daniel nodded. It was too easy to imagine.

"There was no way for us to know, Daniel," she said, reasonably. "We all accepted the risks when we signed up for this."

"I know," he sighed, "It doesn't help."

Sam stayed with him for a few more minutes and then said,

"I'll go find out what else they're going to do and come back and check on you okay?"

Daniel nodded absently, but immediately felt bereft when she disappeared out of the infirmary. He was left with nothing but the soft beeping of monitors to assure him that Jillian was alive. He picked up the book Sam had brought him and stared at the pages without seeing them for several long moments.

Daniel was only alert to Jillian – the soft cadence of her breathing, the delicate flutter of her eyelids, her fingers twitching under his. Fear and regret burned, somewhere deep.

When she suddenly drew a long shuddering breath and tossed her head on the pillow he was certain he was dreaming. He leaned forward, put his arm over her head and brushed at her hair.

"Jillian?"

Her breath caught at the sound of his voice and her eyes opened slowly, seeking his face.

"Daniel?" Her voice sounded like it was packed with wool.

Daniel found the cup of ice chips on the table and helped her sit up enough to get some past her dry lips. She looked around in confusion as they melted and soothed her throat.

"This is the infirmary," she whispered, "The SGC."

Daniel smiled gently, still stroking her hair.

"You're doing really well," he said, his voice a cadence of softness, "You've only been awake for a few seconds and we've covered more than half the questions I was supposed to ask you."

Jillian gazed up at him as if looking away would endanger her life again.

"What were the questions?"

"Who am I? Do you know where you are; and do you know who you are?"

"Jillian," she said, and then smiled a little, "But that's cheating because you already told me."

Daniel rested his forehead on hers, content to inhale and exhale with her just for a moment. Her memories would come flooding back soon and he would have to tell her painful truths.

It happened far sooner than he wanted. He heard the shiver in her breathing.

"Oh, God, Daniel," she whispered, "The planet! Where's SG8? Where's the rest of my team?"

"Scotty's here. He's with Jack."

"He saved my life. If I'm here it's because of him. Where are Mallory and Rusty? Are they hurt?"

Abruptly, Daniel found himself up against the wall he had been dreading, the one made up of something he really didn't want to tell her.

"We haven't found them yet," Daniel admitted.

She tried to sit up and he restrained her as gently as he could. In spite of the pain killers, she winced and gasped. She dissolved into a fit of coughing as painful spasms attacked her rib cage.

"Jill, hush. Shhh. They're doing everything possible."

Jillian sank back down on the pillow. Her breathing came in short shallow gasps of pain and fear. Her hands found his forearms.

"Where have they looked? Did they go to the city?"

"They can't, Jill."

"Why not?"

"The mine field has reset."

"Daniel!"

"They'll find a way to turn it off…."

"Who's working on it?" she demanded.

"Rothman, and Felger."

Panic flared like green fire in her eyes. Her hands gripped his forearms again, with more strength than she should have.

"_You_ have to go," she whispered, urgently.

"Me?"

"Yes. The field is generated by the pillars. There is writing on them. I think it's the instructions. I was about to warn them when everything started exploding. It has to be you, Daniel. You have to go find out what it says," she paused and swallowed hard, as her throat dried again.

Daniel got her more ice which she took impatiently.

"Rothman is there," Daniel told her. "He can read it."

Jillian shook her head vehemently. He was pinned by her eyes suddenly and they were filled with a desperate, pleading confidence. _You are my hero and I need you,_ they said.

"It has to be you," she repeated, "The writing isn't Egyptian. It's Ancient."


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel skidded into the Gate Room just as chevron six was encoding. His late arrival earned him a very – _very_ – narrow look of disapproval from O'Neill. Jack had accepted that Daniel was a civilian and really only came to heel when he wanted to. Jack could normally count on Daniel's insatiable curiosity about what lay at the end of a wormhole to get him to the Gate on time. This time he supposed Daniel had stopped by the infirmary on the way there; or had lingered there too long before leaving to get ready. Neither possibility managed to make Jack less disapproving.

On the one hand, Jack knew Daniel had been getting valuable information out of Jillian; on the other hand Jack wanted his team to run like clockwork.

And it was all moot anyway since Jack's disapproval went entirely unnoticed by Daniel. He had come into the room at a run, eyes on the Gate, breathlessly zipping up his black jacket and taking his equipment from a waiting airman.

Chevron seven locked as Daniel was clipping on his backpack and the Gate roared to life. Awesome, terrible power washed into the room and then settled down like a tamed beast, swirling its enticement to enter.

"Let's do this," Jack said.

At the other end of the icy cold that lay between worlds, the member of the SGC already working on the minefield problem watched as SG1 strolled casually through the blue maelstrom. O'Neill first, craning his neck to take in everything at once; Carter and Jackson side by side in near lockstep. Teal'c prowled through last.

Daniel took his glasses off to wipe the condensation caused by going from the cold of the Einstein-Rosen Bridge to the heat of P3C-328.

"Warm," Sam commented.

Daniel pushed his glasses back in place and shifted the pack on his shoulders.

"Gravity is lower too," he said.

"Carter, Daniel," Jack said. They looked at him and O'Neill gestured towards the pillars. "Get on this."

It wasn't a suggestion. Daniel was already fixated on the ring of pillars. Jack was taking in everything at once. A dense forest grew up almost to the edge of the pillars on either side of the Gate and Jack could see it continuing in the distance, where the tip of the pyramid rose above the tops of the trees. It reminded him of the deep, dark forests of the Pacific Northwest. Shadows could hide any number of things. The trees were wide enough to hide Teal'c. It made the hair on the back of Jack's neck stand up.

Beyond the forward pillars, just in front of the Gate was a meadow of grass and flowers – and ruined earth where bombs had exploded. He could hear birds, a chittering noise that was most likely some kind of insect, a hooting call that could have been anything. There was no sign of anything remotely human, or alien.

Jack studied that vast expanse without a flicker of expression, even as all his warning bells rang like a carillon. He would have walked his team out into that diabolical innocence without a single thought of danger from anywhere but the woods. Anyone would. In spite of the heat and extra gravity, it looked like a vacation spot.

But he was never going to take the area in front of a Gate for granted again.

With one more poker-faced glance at the meadow, Jack went to get a report from SG3.

In the meantime, Rothman and Lee exchanged looks of relief and frustration as Carter and Daniel approached. They had secretly been hoping to be the heroes – to be the ones who deciphered enough of the writing on the pillar, from Daniel's carefully handwritten notes on Ancient, to shut down the minefield and make rescue possible.

They had seriously underestimated the complexity of the Ancient language, or their own abilities, or both. Now Daniel would walk over and glance at the writing, apply his fiendish aptitude for language and the problem would be solved.

Rothman sighed and began packing up everything but Daniel's notes. Those he offered to Jackson as the archaeologist joined them. Daniel's attention was riveted on the pillar that bore the Roman numeral one and he was oblivious to anything else. Rothman gave another heavy sigh and packed Daniel's notebook along with everything else. Clearly Jackson wasn't going to need it.

Daniel moved cautiously around the stone pillar, looking up at the carved head and finding it just as Jillian had described.

On the first column, there was not one face but two: the older heavily bearded face that could be seen from the Gate, and another much younger one that faced in the opposite direction. It was exquisite – a stone pillar carved into perfection thousands of years ago. The ring of columns was classically Roman. Tall, alabaster white, carved with intricate images of their time, and each was topped with a platform that held a stylized torch. It was the kind of thing he could spend days with, the kind of thing that had gotten him involved in archaeology to begin with. He wondered what he could learn about life in the days when the towers had been new, just by studying the frieze on each one. He was sharply reminded of Trajan's Column in Italy. He also had an instant sharp pang of heartache. No one with him would have any idea what Trajan's Column was, only Jillian; and she was light years away. He loved his team, in a way he had never had family to love. But Jillian 'got' all the same things he did.

"Janus," Daniel said, almost to himself, dragging his thoughts back to the immediate problem.

"Who?" Sam was already crawling around the second pillar to find some kind of panel that would open onto controls. But she knew that tone. Daniel had found something that captivated him.

"The Roman god of past and future, openings, transitions," Daniel paused and then said significantly, "Gateways."

He and Sam shared a brief look and then Daniel went on, "He was also the god of peace when his Temple doors were sealed closed."

Sam got the symbolism, but she knew it helped Daniel to think if he was allowed to continue talking.

"This minefield must be a way of keeping the peace without actually burying the Gate. The question is whether or not Janus himself actually created it. He must have been one of the Ancients."

Jack had joined them at that point.

"No, Daniel," he said, fiercely, "You can worry about what god or Ancient or fairy godmother created all this AFTER you get this minefield turned off and we find SG8. Then you can worry about history all you want."

Daniel started to argue that knowing the mind and motives of the creator might help but then stopped. He heard the steel thread in Jack's voice and remembered the look of desperate fear in Jillian's eyes and knew they were right. Lives were at stake here. He couldn't let himself get distracted. He started to move to the other side of the pillar, where the writing was, when Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't step between them. That's what started this whole mess," Jack reminded him impatiently.

"Oh, right," Daniel shook his head as if to clear it. Then he moved cautiously around the inside of the pillar.

He put his hand on the Ancient letters carved into the stone and ran his fingers over them. Ancient was a language he could read blindfolded and it never got old; long forgotten letters that told him of people and cultures and landscapes. No way for him to ever get tired of that. As he read, he translated softly to himself since he knew no one was really listening.

The solution, when he read it, was eloquent and simple – and he resisted it the way a drowning man resists the water. It was also stupidly obvious, so much so that he suspected he had deliberately blinded himself to it, hoping that it was something else.

He rested the palm of his hand against the pillar for a moment and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked from one ancient priceless column to the other in despair. When he came to the one marked with the Roman numeral four, he couldn't help but see the dark red spatter near the base.

That was where Jillian had been when the minefield erupted. It wasn't hard to conjure up her image. She would have been just as enchanted as he was, drawn to the columns, wondering just as he was who the imposing figure was – the one that continued to appear time and again in the frieze. He was unmistakable, whether leading troops into battle or a parade through the streets. But there was no text, no way to decipher who he might have been in the lives of these people. He could see Jillian touching the carvings and wondering just as he did.

Until all hell had broken loose behind her. That darkening stain was her blood and somewhere out there half of her team was lost. Mallory had a new granddaughter, less than a year old. Rusty Davidson had two sons and a wife. Daniel and Jillian had been to a barbecue at his house less than two weeks ago. Rusty's oldest son had damned near beat Daniel at a game of chess.

Still….

Daniel closed his eyes again and said, "Oh, God."

Sam looked around sharply. Daniel sounded like he was in physical pain. His voice had a chill of winter in it and his face was pale.

"Daniel?" she asked, stepping towards him anxiously. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Give me a minute," he whispered.

Sam shifted uneasily. The missing half of SG8 might not have an extra minute.

"Daniel," she prompted after less than thirty seconds.

Daniel sighed, straightened and called, "Jack! Teal'c!"

When they joined him at the column Jack demanded,

"Do you know how to shut it off yet?"

"Yes," Daniel said, tightly.

"Then let's do it," Jack snapped impatiently.

"We need Teal'c."

The Jaffa's eyebrows climbed up his forehead in question.

"The columns have to be destroyed; at least the Janus column does and I suspect that a staff blast is going to be the best way to do that," Daniel spoke in a rush, resignation lying across his shoulders like a yoke.

"Destroyed?" Jack, Teal'c and Sam all spoke in the same moment.

Daniel got 'that' look on his face and started stammering.

"I-i-it's a Janus Gate," at the blank stares he received at that announcement he went on in a rush, "According to th-the Roman mythology, Janus was the god of doorways. In times of peace, his temple doors were kept sealed. In times of war they were opened. The only way to 'open' this door is to declare war. Since the original war here was between the Goa'uld and the Ancients, or at least Janus, then it seems reasonable that using Teal'c's staff to destroy the columns is a pretty effective way to open the door, and turn the minefield off."

"Reasonable? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Jack said, slowly.

Sam was silent, staring at Daniel in sympathy. Perhaps only she realized how difficult it was for the passionate archaeologist to contemplate destroying such well preserved monuments of history. No wonder he looked as if he was about to be sick.

Daniel stepped back from the Janus pillar, sighed and shook his head.

"You usually _like _blowing things up! This time I can't even argue with you about it. I have to _recommend it!"_

Jack reined in his immediate reaction. Daniel was clearly upset and, at least when it came to his team, Jack wasn't the utter hardass he wanted everyone to think he was.

"Look," he began, "Daniel. As far as I'm concerned they started it. Two of our people came back seriously wounded and two haven't come back at all. If it's a battle they want, then let's give it to them."

Before Daniel could even begin to reply, Jack had spun on his heel and was barking orders.

"Rothman! Dial the Gate. All nonessential personnel are going home. Now! And by nonessential I mean everyone who isn't SG1."

The Gate spun, chevrons began to lock. Daniel got out his camcorder and tried to capture as many of the columns as he could. In a show of support, Sam got out her camcorder and helped.

Then everyone but SG1 was gone and the Gate collapsed into silence. There was nothing but wind in the trees and the occasional call of a bird.

Jack locked eyes with Teal'c and inclined his head towards the Janus column.

"Can you hit that from behind the Gate?" he asked.

Teal'c returned O'Neill's look with a baleful one of his own and a single raised eyebrow that asked if Jack was joking. Striding past them and checking the footage he'd managed to capture, Daniel made a sharp, derisive noise and muttered,

"With his eyes closed."

Teal'c gracefully inclined his head. "Indeed," he said, but he didn't look happy about it.

Jack took in the stiff line of tension across Daniel's shoulders and the agitation in his stride and fell in beside him as they sought the relative safety of the Stargate.

"You okay?" Jack asked, in a way that sounded off-handed and wasn't.

"No," Daniel's response was clipped and hard.

That was what Jack had come to respect about Daniel. He could look you in the face and be honest all day long – well, except when he was injured. _Then _he'd claim he was fine with his jaw clenched and sweat beading his forehead.

But most of the time Jack could count on his scrupulous honesty. Jack put a hand on Daniel's shoulder and squeezed briefly through the thick fabric of his vest.

"Come on, Indiana," Jack said.

Daniel rolled his eyes but accepted the 'endearment' for what it was – acknowledgement that, at heart, Daniel was an archaeologist.

Sam had the F.R.E.D following her like an obedient dog. They took up a position hunkered down behind the Gate, with F.R.E.D at their six to give further protection from the fall out. Sam handed them all safety glasses and helmets. No one really had any idea what was going to happen when Teal'c opened fire on the Janus column.

For just a moment Teal'c and Daniel looked at one another. It seemed as if Teal'c had been at the center of so much of the unendurable pain in Daniel's life; so much that even causing the slightest more was unthinkable. Now there were no words, just an exchange of glances and the barest nod of Daniel's head and a slight shrug of his shoulders. _Permission granted_, the gesture said.

Crouched behind the impervious curve of the Stargate, Teal'c activated his staff weapon, took aim at the base of the Janus Gate and fired before he could change his mind.

Daniel curled up in a ball as irreplaceable history exploded into bits around him.

When the firing stopped and the dust cleared and the last bits of history finished raining to the ground, they dared to look up again.

Where there had once been columns pristine and white, there was now only broken, blackened stumps. Of the Janus column, nothing remained at all. They stood up and surveyed the wreckage with varying degrees of grim satisfaction and utter dismay.

"Carter," Jack said, and only that.

His 21C moved into immediate action, deploying one of the small robots formerly stored in F.R.E.D and sending it between the pillars. What had once been a treacherous journey into a field of grass and flowers – and the intermittent deadly explosion – seemed to have once more gone peaceful and quiet.

O'Neill ordered four more robots out in different directions and then, when nothing got blown to hell, made a decision to move out.

"All right, that way," he said, indicating a path that would take them almost immediately into the woods. It was directly behind the remains of the Gate that had once been stained with Jillian's blood. The trees were only a few meters from it. Daniel realized this was where Scotty had dragged Jillian – across the short expanse of grass and into the woods. With her backpack still full and the heavier gravity, no wonder her shoulder had dislocated.

They took anything and everything off the F.R.E.D that they might possibly need. Jack ordered then into combat gear in a voice no one felt like arguing with.

The Colonel went first. There was no question. Daniel fell into step behind him, then Sam with Teal'c on their six. The woods weren't going to allow for anything but single file. They were all silent, all senses trained on the possibility of danger.

They had, after all, just declared war on a people they knew absolutely nothing about.


	5. Chapter 5

The city, even what they could see crouching at the edge of the woods, was even more incredible than Daniel had imagined. He drank it in as if it was water and he'd been dying of thirst. The city was walled and there were guards in red tunics prowling the top. Spires, obelisks and temples rose up behind it, tantalizing. The walls came together on either side of a lion-headed Sphinx, the size of which would dwarf the one on Earth. A ramp led up between the out stretched legs of the giant beast. A double doorway that glittered gold in the sun appeared to be the entrance. Daniel's compulsive need to explore rose up like a fever. It was a big city – _Big. _It would take forever to catalogue it all.

He was glued to the images, trying to train the binoculars on everything at once, until he realized Jack was trying to get his attention and sounded like he had been trying to for some time.

"_DANIEL!"_

Deer in headlights looked less startled than Daniel did as he finally put the binoculars down and focused on Jack.

"What?"

Jack got that look on his face – like he was trying not to strangle someone.

"What do you see?" Jack finally ground out.

Daniel was cognizant enough to not start describing the incredible Egyptian architecture or the exquisite detail on the Sphinx, or that the lion head seemed to confirm the current radical notion among archaeologists that the Earth-bound Sphinx was not in its original condition. Jack wanted tactical information.

And basically, Daniel saw the same things Jack did – sentries patrolling the very high wall with crossbows, wearing distinctly Roman garb. The guards could see across the short expanse of grassy field between the city and the woods. Anything crossing that expanse would be immediately visible.

"I see no way to approach the city without walking out into the open," Daniel summarized.

"You are correct, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. The subtext of his even tone was decidedly displeased; and with Teal'c most of the conversation was subtext.

"All right," O'Neill drawled, "I'm open to suggestions."

Legs cramping from the crouch he had held for too long, Daniel sat down on the damp ground. Jack wasn't going to like his suggestion.

"I'll go," Daniel said, "And Sam should go with me."

Jack simply stared at Daniel for a few very long moments in which no one dared breathe. Only their history kept him from rejecting the notion out right.

"Why?" he asked finally. His voice said that he thought Daniel was bordering on lunacy.

"Because Sam and I look the least threatening," Daniel explained.

"Hey!" Sam objected.

Daniel grinned at her, softening what Sam had clearly taken as a jibe.

"I didn't say you _weren't _threatening. I said you don't _look_ threatening, without the artillery anyway, which actually when you think about it makes you all that more dangerous. No one ever sees it coming."

This time Daniel caught himself before his rampant thoughts ran him off on another tangent. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "From what I can tell this appears to be a Roman society. If it follows the traditional Roman society on Earth, women didn't go into combat. I don't think they will fire on an unarmed man and woman approaching the city."

Jack looked grim. The plan went against every instinct Jack possessed – except the one that told him Daniel was almost always right and Jack could trust him.

As for Daniel, having spoken his piece, he was sitting cross-legged and relaxed, finger poking aimlessly through the pine needles on the ground. Jack would either give them a go or he would not.

Sam was watching a bit more anxiously. Jack glanced at her and the single look said, _I won't order you to do this._ But Sam nodded. She had the same cursed instinct to trust Daniel that Jack did.

"All right. We'll cover you," Jack said, finally. He nodded at Teal'c, who scowled disapprovingly but slipped through the underbrush to take up a position behind a tree with his P90 at the ready.

Daniel and Sam slipped out of black jackets, backpacks and P90s, keeping only their Berettas. The relief from the heat and gravity was immediately noticeable. That alone might be worth risking a run in with a crossbow. As they stepped out of the woods and began the journey across the field, Sam asked,

"You sure about this?"

Daniel shot her a sidelong glance. His expression had that mesmerizing calm that had worked so well for them in the past.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't risk you," he answered.

Sam grinned a little. Daniel at her side, the Colonel and Teal'c armed and at her back. She couldn't be safer.

Still as they drew closer to the city and the red-garbed sentries trained crossbows on them with deadly intent, she felt a rush of adrenaline and had to fight the urge to run for cover.

"Daniel?" she asked, tensely.

"If they were going to fire, they would have already," Daniel answered, but he hadn't taken his eyes off the guards closest to them.

They made it to the foot of the ramp when someone on top of the wall finally yelled,

"Hold!"

Sam and Daniel came to an immediate halt, hands raised. Daniel was taking a breath, no doubt to begin his _we're peaceful travelers from the planet Earth _speech when what happened next abruptly shut him up.

A small ball of light formed in front of them, floating a few feet off the ground. It elongated and became the slight form of an ethereal teenage boy. Blond haired, fair skinned, fathomless dark eyes, he smiled in welcome.

"I am Kael," he said.

Daniel recovered his shock first.

"I am…." He began.

"Daniel Jackson," Kael finished in a voice like a heavenly choir. He bowed, no more than a slight bend at the waist. Then he turned that breath-taking smile on Carter, "And Samantha Carter. Your companions, Teal'c and Jack O'Neill are waiting in the woods. You can tell them to come out. All is well."

They exchanged glances and hesitated.

"Um," Daniel said, "If you know who we are, then you know we blew up your security system back at the…"

"Yes," Kael made a dismissive gesture with his elegant hand, "You showed great knowledge in determining how to defeat the system and great courage in approaching our city unarmed. Many have tried and failed. The system is repaired. All is well."

For the first time in his life Daniel was utterly without words, of any kind, in any language. Fortunately, Sam's voice chose that moment to kick in.

"We're here trying to find friends of ours who weren't so fortunate with your security system. Do you know where they are?" she demanded.

"All in good time," Kael said and it occurred to Daniel that Jack was going to want to throttle the teenager within five minutes of meeting. "In the meantime….."

Kael made a sweeping gesture with his hand and suddenly Jack and Teal'c were there, still crouched and pointing P90s. Sam and Daniel's gear appeared in a nice neat pile beside them.

"What the f…."

"Jack!" Daniel cut him off sharply. O'Neill shot him a look that should have blistered Daniel on the spot. Daniel hurried on, "This is Kael. They don't seem to have any harmful intent and Kael has promised to tell us where Mallory and Davidson are."

Some of the tension drained out of O'Neill. He stood slowly but didn't lower the P90. Teal'c imitated him like a huge, imposing shadow.

"Your weapons are unnecessary," Kael said.

"I'll keep it, just the same. Thanks," O'Neill said, with a cold smile that indicated his warning bells were going off like a fire alarm fire.

Kael looked amused. "You are exactly as Gareth said you would be."

"Who is Gareth?" Daniel asked.

"Our Prophet," Kael answered. "He who foresaw your coming."

Sam spoke up immediately, "Predicting the future is scientifically impossible…."

"Sam," Daniel realized he was spending a lot of energy interrupting his teammates. "So is appearing out of thin air," he finished with a pointed look at Kael.

Sam held Daniel's eyes for a moment and then nodded. "I suppose. After all, any sufficiently advanced technology is…"

"Indistinguishable from magic," Daniel finished, with a grin pulling at his mouth and lighting his eyes.

"Indeed," Kael said and smiled angelically at Teal'c.

Teal'c mildly raised eyebrow betrayed actual deep surprise.

"Come," Kael said, turning.

Daniel half expected to disappear and find himself suddenly elsewhere, but instead the gold doors on the chest of the Sphinx simply vanished. A wide corridor, glistening in gold and white with shocks of red, opened before them. Daniel was immediately enchanted all over again, though he had the presence of mind to gather his gear. They entered the hall and found towering columns, ridged and elegant, holding up the ceiling. The walls were painted with murals in the two dimensional Egyptian style. Daniel's steps slowed, wavered, moved sideways of their own volition.

Captivated he ran his fingers over the walls, deciphering the images, willing them to tell their story.

The next thing he knew, Jack had grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and yanked him forward again.

"Daniel, for cryin' out loud," he muttered, exasperated.

"But Jack this is fascinating…."

"Oh I am positive and I promise to let you fascinate me with it _after _we find Mallory and Davidson."

Daniel's brain cells shifted gears. Right. The mission. Mallory. Davidson. Jillian's bright, pleading eyes.

God, Jillian. A wave of longing swamped him. She would _love_ this place. Maybe they could come back, together, when he knew it was safe; when he knew that all this Egyptian artwork and architecture didn't herald the presence of the Goa'uld.

Because the idea of Jillian being within a million light years of a Goa'uld filled him with a blind rage that made him physically ill. He would do anything –_anything _– to prevent that.

He fell obediently into step beside Sam, determined to forget for a little bit that he had once been an archaeologist. At least he got a small, sympathetic smile from Sam. The science department of SG1 had to stick together. From what they had witnesses at the foot of the ramp, Sam was going to have to suspend her beliefs about things that were 'scientifically impossible' and Daniel was going to have to concentrate on cultural anthropology and linguistics.

They emerged from inside the Sphinx through another set of doors that simply vanished behind them and reappeared moments later. They were now in an open courtyard with another impressive mural. This one was set in the floor and made of small tiles that provided intricate details, far more Roman in style that the walls within the Sphinx. Daniel's steps faltered again in spite of his resolve, but a sharp look from Jack kept him moving. He made due with trying to take in all the buildings at once, finding them all mostly Roman in design. They were being taken to the building directly across from the Sphinx, one whose design caused Jack to remark,

"I think we might be going to see Congress."

Kael provided them with one of his heavenly smiles. He waved towards another Temple-like structure to their left.

"Not Congress, O'Neill," he said, "But our Senate meets over there."

Jack returned the heavenly smile with an inscrutable look of his own. When Kael looked away, Jack looked pointedly at Daniel.

"Where are we?" Jack asked, casually. "Egypt? Rome? Some kind of wormhole time warp again?"

"Not in Kansas anymore," Daniel murmured. Then he couldn't stop the frustrated glare he threw at Jack, "Maybe if you'd let me spend five minutes looking at some of their artwork, I could tell you. I need information. I'm not psychic."

"We need to stay together, Daniel," Jack said, with finality.

The resemblance to Congress continued even inside the building – glistening alabaster, red fabrics, gilded chairs. Between the towering windows were more mosaics, each one of a different person. Though the images were of different ages, sexes and color, each had the same peaceful, angelic quality that came so effortlessly from their teenage escort. They were led to a circular room with a domed skylight soaring many stories over their heads. Three people were waiting for them already, standing on a small dais.

Jack wondered if that was what angels looked like. They were all dressed like Kael, in loose-flowing tunics and pants in shades of ivory and Jack had the strange feeling they had just crashed a pajama party. The man was tall, easily O'Neill's height, powerfully built. He had hawk-like features and a thick shock of silver hair swept back from his forehead. Indigo eyes could have been cold but were not. They looked more like the warm center of a flame where it burned the hottest. He had the air of someone who knew his own power and authority and was comfortable in his own skin. Jack wanted to dislike him, to be wary, and for some reason found that he could not; and so far there were no snake-enhanced voices or glowing eyes.

The woman to his left was younger, dark-haired. On Earth, Jack would have guessed she was from India; black eyes, bronze skin, ebony hair that hung long and straight and ended in a sharp line at her hips. The woman on his right was her polar opposite – pale as winter frost, eyes so blue they were nearly clear, ivory hair rippling like moonlight on water, ending in a fluffy puff just below her shoulders.

And they all had that same maddening sense of calm and certainty.

"Welcome, SG-1," the dark-haired woman said.

Jack continued looking unruffled. He nodded slightly in greeting.

"You have me at a disadvantage, ma'am," he said, turning on the full blast of Midwestern charm and feigned humility.

"I am Aurelian, the Seer," the dark-haired woman said. She nodded towards her companions. "This is our Empath, Jehain and our Prophet, Gareth. You have met our Teleport, Kael."

Ah, Jack, thought, the infamous Gareth who sees all. He studied the silver-haired man again and discovered he still couldn't quite dislike him. Still, Aurelian had listed off their titles as if she expected SG-1 to understand what they meant. Jack glanced at Daniel, who answered him with a mystified lift of his shoulders.

"They are new to our world, Aurelian," Gareth chided, but gently, "We are the Gifted, O'Neill. There are six of us in all and we govern this world," he paused and smiled in a self effacing way, "Well, most of it; and we do not have your friends."

"But you know who does," Jack prompted, and then, being the eternal skeptic that he was, added, "Being a Prophet and all."

Gareth smiled. Daniel felt Teal'c move, minutely but enough to reveal that the Jaffa was losing patience with the smiling and mystery. Daniel took a step forward.

"Um, Gareth?" He paused, eyebrows raised to see if that was the correct way to address the man. When he received a quiet nod, Daniel went on, "If you know where they are, we'd appreciate any information you can give us."

Gareth glanced at Aurelian, who got a strange inward look on her face, as if she was looking at something in another place entirely.

"I see gray wall, straw floors and the two men who came through the Janus Gate," she intoned slowly. When she appeared to come back into herself she looked sadly at Gareth, "That is all and no more."

"Are they hurt?" Jack asked, wondering what the hell he was doing asking. How could she possibly know that? How could she know where they were for that matter?

"No. If they are it isn't seriously," frustration sat ill on her lovely features.

"You can only See so much, Aurelian," Jehain spoke up in a voice like wind chimes.

Whatever else anyone was going to say, it all died when another man strode into the room.

O'Neill was rarely caught off guard. When he was his recovery was almost always quick; but not this time. Daniel was simply gaping. Sam was struggling to maintain her military composure. Teal'c had gone on high alert, as if the entire carillon of _his_ warning bells had begun to ring.

The man had the same bronze skin and dark coloring of the Seer, but the resemblance ended there. His eyes were gold and his long hair looked as if it had been haphazardly hacked off at the shoulder with a knife. He wore a leather vest and leather pants that clung to powerful legs. Gold bands adorned his sculpted forearms and something gold glinted from one ear. A band made of braided leather rested across his forehead, tied around his head to hold back his hair. He looked like her could toss Teal'c across a room one handed. Folded tightly against his back was a pair of wings, shiny and black, pointed like bat wings. They were huge. Jack estimated a twenty foot span when outstretched. Could the guy really fly with those things?

At his side walked the biggest wolf Jack had ever seen in his life, black and grey like smoke. On earth, the animal would have been roughly the size of a rhino. They both moved silently, even the man's booted feet made no noise on the tile floor. He fairly reeked of strength and calm and the same inherent sense of command and authority shown by the other four, embodied by the lithe grace of the lethal animal pacing at his side. There was more controlled violence in this man than in the others. Teal'c stirred again, reacting to it.

_Now _that _was something you didn't see every day, _Jack thought.

"_Cave canem,"_ Daniel murmured.

"You can say that again," Jack muttered.

Daniel threw a startled glance at O'Neill that was answered with an imperturbable look of innocence.

"It's all right," Jehain said softly."Faelan is one of us."

Daniel looked at her and wondered. Had she understood him? Empath, they had called her. Was she reacting to their emotional response to the sudden appearance of the mysterious winged stranger and his companion? He also wondered if Faelan was the man or the wolf.

He got his answer soon enough as Gareth said, "This is Faelan, our Caller, and we use the name Storm for his companion. Whether Storm answers to it or not is a matter of his mood at the time."

The wolf's jaw dropped open and his long pink lolled out. The huge plume of tail moved back and forth once as if he and Gareth had just shared a private joke and then he was still again.

Sg1 continued to gape while trying desperately not to. Gareth went on explaining.

"As you have guessed, Faelan is not human. He is of the Trevithian, as one of the Gifted always is."

"Naturally," Jack said, pulling his eyes off the wolf with some effort.

Aurelian spoke, directing her words to Faelan.

"Did you find them?"

"Yes. They are being held on the island of Cria, in the old fortress," Faelan's voice was deep, with a rolling accent not unlike the howling of wolves in the moonlight. "Neither of them has been taken yet. The eaters of souls must be fighting over them among themselves."

For the first time a flicker of emotion – in this case concern – flickered across the faces of the Gifted and they exchanged glances. This in turn made SG1 exchange glances.

"What does that mean?" Jack demanded.

"Faelan has found your friends on Cria. The island is the fortress home of the Luciferians, the Bringers of Light," Jehain said, gently.

"_Lucifer?" _Jack said, with undisguised horror. He whirled around, "Daniel?"

"Lucifer in Latin is Light Bringer. It doesn't mean we're dealing with Satan again," Daniel was speaking absent-mindedly, reciting details from memory while his present brain worked to solve another problem. He looked up at the angelic beings on the dais. "Wait. Is that what you call these people or what they call themselves?"

"It is what we call them," Kael answered, "They have no name for themselves, but the Trevithians have always called them the eaters of souls. They are what is left of the followers of the old god, the followers of Aten. This city was once his. Now he holds only the island."

The color drained from Daniel's face, which made every other member of SG1 came to attention.

"Daniel?" Jack asked.

"Aten was an Egyptian god, the embodiment of the light coming from the sun," he paused and shared a look with Jack that he could share with no one else, "In most stories he and Ra are the same. In some Aten is the brother of Ra."

For a long suspended moment, Jack and Daniel simply held that look. Then Daniel went on, speaking quickly, "Aten, as raised up by the Pharoah Akhenaten, was given the full title the_ Rahorusaten who rejoices in the horizon, in his Name of the Light which is seen in the sun disc_. Previously to Akhenaten, Ra, Horus – Heru'ur - and Aten were considered separate gods. With the help of the Pharaoh Akhenaten, Aten had once attempted to become king of all the gods. When Akhenaten died, his image and worship all but died out in Egypt. That must have been when he came here."

Jack regarded him, "So how pissed off is Brother Aten likely to be about Ra being blown into a billion small particles?"

Daniel frowned, but it was Teal'c who answered. "The Goa'uld all seek power. The brothers may have warred between themselves, and yet still seek revenge against an outside threat for the death of even the least of them."

Jack resisted grinding his teeth in frustration and turned his attention back to the Gifted.

"This Aten," he said, casually. "Is he still around?"

"Aten left by starship hundreds of years ago, at the end of the Great War. His followers retreated to the islands and have remained there," Kael said, with the utter certainty often exhibited by youth. "He has not returned and he dare not come through the Circle and once again declare war on our people."

"Isn't that what we did?" Jack asked. He was speaking to the Gifted but watching Daniel. Clearly the scientist had not been expecting to find Goa'uld presence still here. He would never have asked Jillian to come here if he had suspected anything of the kind.

"Your intent was much different," Aurelian said, "The Gate functions as it does and nothing can be changed. Janus did not see fit to tell us to turn it off and in a thousand years none of our best minds have succeeded in doing so. We have an Empath to tell us the true intentions of visitors and she read your hearts true."

Jehain speared Daniel with a look that made him feel like a butterfly pinned to a board.

"The destruction caused you great pain," she said, with little subtly but great sympathy, "You will be relieved to know the pillars have been restored."

"Restored?" Daniel repeated, even though he looked like he wanted to retreat behind a wall and stay there. He had straightened and folded his arms across his chest, as best he could with a P90 in the way. He was staring defiantly at Jehain, eyes like stone in spite of Daniel's position as their unofficial mediator. Jack had seen the stance before – the Great Wall of Daniel, designed to very clearly say 'keep out.'

Someone who could read his feelings like he read ancient writing was Daniel's worse nightmare. Jack sympathized.

"It is another function of the Janus Gate," Gareth said, dismissively, "At the moment, our immediate need is to bring your friends to safety and find out why the Luciferians were at the Gate to begin with."

"Is that how Mallory and Davidson wound up with these people?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Gareth said, and once again he looked concerned."They must have been waiting for someone to come through and assumed your friends were their enemies when they didn't know how to disarm the Gate."

"Can we get them out?" Jack demanded.

"With our help," Gareth said, with another calm smile, "Possibly."


	6. Chapter 6

They were taken to a comfortable room and given food and drink, which was less important to Daniel than the murals that once again decorated the walls. When Jack had asked what they were waiting for he was told "the arrival of the Trevithians" and no more.

At that point, Teal'c had assumed a lotus position and fallen silent as as…well, a very large mouse. Sam had decided to eat while there was food and O'Neill had prowled the room, automatically checking it for exits, concealed entrances and strategic positions in case of an attack. Daniel had walked slowly along the walls, drinking in the images with that rapt expression on his face that was reserved for anything over a thousand years old.

Long experience had taught Jack just how long he could let that go on before Daniel was so immersed it took too long to get him back out. He waited just that long and no more. Even then, he had to tap Daniel on the shoulder to get his attention.

"What?" Daniel asked, startled.

"Can I get an invitation?"Jack asked.

Daniel looked utterly blank, "To?"

"To Daniel-land, where all this," Jack paused and waved a hand at the pictures on the wall," makes some kind of sense. I gave you five minutes like you asked. In fact I gave you twenty. So what did you learn?"

Daniel gave him an annoyed look but moved back to what he had determined was the beginning of the mural, "Like I said out in the courtyard the mosaics are incredible. This is a style that was made popular just before the fall of the Roman Empire," his fingers trailed over the wall in a slow caress, "You can see how much effort was made to match all the colors of the glass, and the purples appear to be some kind of shell, like oysters shells….." 

"Daniel!" Jack ground out and was rewarded with a startled look.

Daniel blinked behind his glasses.

"What?"

Jack regarded him with a long-suffering look that showed a battle between being amused and wanting to throttle the archaeologist.

"You're the reason I drink. You know that, right?" O'Neill asked.

Daniel gave him a blank look and took the moment to readjust his glasses.

"I don't care how it was made! What does it say!"

"Oh!" Daniel shifted gears to a new lecture easily enough, even if he didn't have a laser pointer and a baffling slide show to go with it, "This seems to indicate that the original inhabitants of this planet were the Trevithian."

"The guys with wings?"

"Yeah, though who knows what started them on that evolutionary path," Daniel shook his head to keep himself from running off on that tangent, "Then if you look here, this seems to be the arrival of the Goa'uld, probably during the migration from Earth. They built most of this city, the Pyramid, the Sphinx, the wall….. and they started taking Trevithians as hosts. The population was nearly wiped out."

"Winged hosts," Jack commented, "The little snake-heads must have _loved_ that. Do you think they can really fly?"

Daniel shrugged and wished Jack wouldn't keep dragging the conversation back to the Trevithians. Daniel sensed a fascinating new culture just waiting for him to explore it. The wealth of new information here was killing him.

"You have to ask Sam about the aerodynamics involved. I wouldn't know."

Hearing that was all the encouragement Carter needed.

"That depends on a lot of factors, "she began, "Birds can fly because they are very lightweight. Faelan didn't strike me as having hollow bones. In fact he looked pretty substantial to me and they are in a higher gravity than Earth-normal, though they evolved here. On the other hand as long as he can generate enough thrust to change the air pressure on either side of his wings he should be able to fly."

Jack was looking at her with his eyebrows raised.

"So you don't know if they can fly?" he asked.

"No, sir," Sam admitted."But it would explain how the Goa'uld got to the Star Gate, kidnapped Mallory and Davidson and then got them back to the island."

Jack shifted slightly. He really didn't like the idea of flying Goa'uld. He turned so he was facing Daniel again.

"You were saying?" he prompted.

"Okay," Daniel had to gather his scattered thoughts. His mind had wandered back to the mural then," either by chance or design, I don't know, the Ancients came through the Gate," he gestured at a large section of wall that was clearly a depiction of war on a grand scale. "The Goa'uld were defeated and retreated to this chain of islands. The Ancients took over the city and the Trevithians settled once again in the mountains just east of here."

Sam was listening to Daniel intently, and even though Teal'c had not moved or opened his eyes, O'Neill didn't doubt that he'd heard everything Daniel had said.

"So why are the Goa'uld back here now, waiting at the Gate and kidnapping people?" Jack said it as if he was puzzling over it, but there was an undertone that said he had an idea.

So did they all, but Sam voiced it.

"New hosts," she said.

The three exchanged grim looks and at that point Teal'c opened his eyes.

"Indeed," he intoned with more solemnity than he normally used. "If they have been hundreds of years regenerating the same hosts, they will need new ones. It will be particularly imperative if there are Jaffa with symbiots coming to maturity."

Teal'c, Sam and Daniel all fell silent again. The Colonel had that inward look that meant he was planning.

"All right, Daniel, this is what I want you to do. Go find that Jane person…."

"Who?"

"I think he mean the Empath, Jehain," Sam supplied helpfully.

"Yes, the one with the name that sounds like Jane with a hiccup," Jack agreed, "Go find her and see what else you can find out."

Daniel looked mystified, "Why me?"

"Because she couldn't take her eyes off you," Jack said.

"What?"

"He's right Daniel. You've picked up another admirer," Sam said.

"I have?" Daniel repeated blankly.

"She seemed quite taken with you," Teal'c put in helpfully. "I believe she would be more willing to impart information to you than any of the others."

"She would?"

Jack made an irritated sound in his throat. "For cryin' out loud, Daniel, how did you ever notice Jillian was interested in you?"

"I didn't," Daniel answered, "I realized I was interested in her and no one was more surprised than me to find out she felt the same way. But since you brought her up, I do have Jillian in my life now."

"Look, Daniel, I just want you to _talk_ to Jane. You don't have to ask her to the prom or start picking out china patterns. You are still the one who does the talking around here, right?" Jack asked.

Pinned by the unwavering stare of his entire team, Daniel nodded.

"Okay, so go turn on the mega-watt smile and talk. You got to tell me I could blow something all to hell, so I'm telling you to go talk," Jack said, pointing at the door, "but don't wander off."

Before heading out the door, Daniel stopped at the table and picked out something that looked like an apple. He could go be charming and talk, but he didn't have to do it on an empty stomach.


	7. Chapter 7

In spite of Jack's warning not to wander off, Daniel was sorely tempted. For one thing he had absolutely no idea where to find the Empath; for another, the building was a wealth of mosaics and engraved statues begging to be explored.

He did a very good job of resisting the temptation until he passed a room whose enormous double doors beckoned him inside. He stumbled to a halt as he tried to take it all in, his breath leaving him a long sigh.

"Wow," he said.

It was a library, or the equivalent of one. Shelves full of books rose from the floor to the towering ceilings, the smell of paper and leather was prevalent. Some shelves held nothing up neatly stacked and rolled scrolls whose age Daniel couldn't begin to guess.

He resisted the heavy urge to sigh again. It was one more place in the galaxy he would never have enough time to explore, not now, possibly not ever. He was part of something much bigger now – this all consuming need to be part of the effort to eradicate the Goa'uld. He had joined SG1 because of love – love that would have driven him to the ends of the galaxy to save his wife.

He wasn't sure exactly what emotions drove him now, only that he didn't care to examine them too closely.

This was where Jehain found him. He was standing by one of the soaring windows with the sun lighting his hair and glinting off the odd frames of metal and glass he wore over his startling blue eyes. He had a book in his hand, reverently turning pages, seemingly oblivious to anything else. He certainly didn't react to her presence.

Jehain was fascinated. She could sense a riot of emotion beneath the cool exterior, as if he was a still pond with a dozen currents swirling just out of sight. A keen vigilance , no doubt learned over decades of hurt and pain, reined in those emotions. Jehain wondered what this man had endured that had caused that vigilance. Its existence would make him difficult to speak to. A man like this would not welcome someone who could read him as easily as he was reading the book resting in his hands.

She took a step forward and deliberately let her footsteps ring on the stone floor. He looked up.

"Aurelan told me you would be here, and that you were looking for me," Jehain said, without preamble.

His smile was welcoming but his eyes spoke only of wariness and withdrawal.

"Aurelan is your ..Seer?" Daniel clarified.

"Yes," Jehain paused and didn't speak again until she was quite close to him. She was surprised how close he let her get, as if he was trying to relax and be friendly.

He was either very brave, or smart enough to realize she could sense his emotions no matter how far across the room she stood – or both. Jehain already knew behind the casual grace and ability to be distracted, there lay a remarkable intelligence.

Curiosity overrode his reticence.

"How does that work? You have a Prophet _and _a Seer? Aren't they the same thing?"

"Aurelan can only see what is happening in the present moment; and she has been concentrating on your friends. Gareth sees future events before they unfold."

Jehain knew immediately that he wanted to argue. She could see him resisting any kind of acceptance of Aurelan's Gift, much less Gareth's. Skepticism knitted his eyebrows and furrowed his smooth skin. Jehain realized then how impulsive he must be, as if any random new thought was likely to scatter to his attention. She saw him draw a breath as if to speak and then simply exhale and let the argument go. He smiled again.

"And the rest of the ….the Gifted? Gareth said there are six of you who serve?"

"Yes. You met all of us but our Telepath. She is ….unwell."

"I'm sorry."

Jehain looked distressed. "She is more than unwell in fact. She is dying. We had to send her away. She can no longer block the mind voices. Kael is with her. He can travel easily to her, though Kael only just joined the Gifted and is still learning to travel."

Daniel considered that. Setting aside his scientific curiosity, he tried to imagine what it must be like for a powerful teenager to be sitting with a dying woman.

"Has Aurelan seen my friends? Are they still all right?"

"Yes, for the moment," Jehain assured him.

Jehain reached for but didn't touch the metal frames around his eyes. He drew his head back slightly but didn't entirely flinch away.

"What is the purpose of this?" she asked.

Daniel's smile broadened a bit.

"They're called glasses," he said, "Without them, I can't see."

Jehain's expression changed to one of alarm.

"At all?"

"No," Daniel chuckled a little, "Everything is just out of focus."

He took them off, slowly, every movement sensual and deliberate; and held them out to her. Tentatively, Jehain put them on, blinked and hurriedly took them off.

"These help you to see more clearly?" she asked, mystified.

"The way everything looked to you with them on is how the world looks to me without them," Daniel explained.

Jehain found she liked the sound of his voice. She watched him put the glasses back on.

"Hmm," she said, speculatively, "some of our people have problems with their vision but I have to admit we never thought of this method of correcting it."

"How do you correct it then?" Daniel asked.

"Usually we don't," Jehain admitted, with an embarrassed smile.

"We'd be happy to show you how they are made. They can be a little fragile, and it's a hassle if you lose them and don't have an extra pair; but it's preferable to not being able to see."

He seemed anxious to share. His emotional aura shone brightly with generosity, cool greens and yellows mixing and swirling.

"You know how to make these?" she asked, "You make your own?"

"No, but it's something the people back on my home world, on Earth, would be happy to share."

"In exchange for rescuing your friends?" she asked, tilting her head. Jehain was not entirely inexperienced in the ways of negotiation; and in spite of her extreme attraction to this intriguing new comer, she had to keep the best interests of her people in mind.

"I doubt we'd have to make that a condition of sharing that particular skill. In this case, it would just be a gesture of good will; possibly a first step in forming an alliance."

Jehain lifted an elegant blond eyebrow. Apparently Daniel Jackson was not inexperienced in negotiation either. But there was no dishonesty apparent in the cool blue mist of emotions that she could detect.

"I think an alliance is certainly something we could discuss, Dr. Jackson…."

"Daniel," he cut her off quickly.

"You have an objection to being addressed by your title?" Jehain asked.

Daniel shrugged. "When I was a child, everyone I knew called my father that."

Jehain knew somehow that wasn't the entire reason but she gave him a graceful nod of her head in acknowledgment. Mentioning his father had caused a sharp stab of sadness that Daniel had just as quickly banished.

Jehain was more and more intrigued by this handsome stranger. Without thinking she blurted out,

"Are you married, Doctor….. Daniel?"

His reaction was immediate. His aura flared red as dried blood, as if someone had dragged a hot knife over nerves already flayed raw. Outwardly he didn't even flinch.

"I was," he said, hesitantly, "My wife …. Died …a long time ago." His aura changed as different emotions collided, battled one another in a kaleidoscope of colors. Finally the throbbing emotional bloodstain flowed into a cooler shade of soft green. "I have someone special in my life now though. She was injured trying to come through the Janus Gate the first time."

Jehain was already regretting having asked him about this at all. Her own emotions were anything but calm around him and her brain had apparently ceased functioning. Obviously, someone like Daniel would already have been spoken for publically.

"Will she be all right?" Jehain asked, with genuine anxiety. They had not realized anyone else had tried to come through the Circle but the two that had been kidnapped by the Goa'uld. She quelled a flash of annoyance. For all their abilities, the Gifted were far from infallible.

"Yes," Daniel answered instantly, then smiled broadly, "but I can't go home without Mallory or Davidson or she'll kill me."

"They are her friends as well?"

Daniel nodded. "They are part of her team, the one she came through the Gate with. She's just as devoted to them as …..well, as I am to my team."

"Well then, before we discuss an alliance we need to rescue your friends, so that this special person in your life isn't forced to kill you," Jehain said. She smiled but she was anxious to change the subject.

Daniel nodded anxiously. "Can you help us with that? Is there a way to get to the island?"

"We have ships," Jehain admitted, "But the Reef Ridge is a formidable obstacle that protects most of the island and ships can be seen coming when they are still far out to sea."

Jehain wanted very much to put her hand on Daniel's arm, to feel the muscle and bone concealed by his shirt under her fingertips.

"So how do we save them?" Daniel prompted, innocent of her thoughts and of her emotions, ignorant of the reason her voice had trailed off. It was clear he was concentrating only on his imprisoned friends. His eyes were filled with intensity, with the same hope and certainty that filled Storm's when he was watching Faelan eat. It was a look that Jehain knew had destroyed the resolve of women all over the galaxy.

At the moment she wanted to realign the planets if it would help him.

"Your best chance," Jehain said, keeping her voice even with some effort, "is to form an alliance with the Trevithians."

"And how do we do that?" Eagerness laced his voice now, though he smiled in that melting, gentle way, "Do they need glasses for their people too?"

Jehain couldn't help but smile back.

"The Trevithian are on their way," she told him, "At this point we just have to wait."

Daniel's mouth set in a firm line and she knew that waiting was something he didn't do well.

"You are welcome to wait in here," she said, making a gesture with her arm that encompassed the entire library. "I'll wait with you, if you would like."

"Can you show me where the history books are?" He was instantly eager and Jehain laughed at his mercurial moods.

"Even more," she said, "We can search through the ancient scrolls."

Daniel all but drooled, his entire being awash in colorful swirls of anticipation.

As Jehain led him to the first shelf of scrolls, Daniel was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"You guys don't happen to know how to make coffee, do you?" he asked.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack appeared to be asleep. He had taken a position on the floor, long legs spread in front of him and crossed at the ankles as he leaned back against the side of a chair. His arms were folded across his chest and the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes.

But he was not asleep. He was watching his restless 21C pace around the room like a caged lioness. Jack could put Daniel in a musty room with old stuff covered in strange writing and be certain Daniel would stay there. Carter didn't entertain as easily. The two of them could teach curiosity to a litter of kittens.

O'Neill understood. He wanted to go after the missing members of SG8 and this forced inactivity was enough to make him chew nails. But he had been in the military long enough to accept food and rest when it was offered. 'Hurry up and wait' was an Air Force skill O'Neill had mastered decades ago. Carter was still working on it.

"Carter!" he snapped as she paced past him for the six millionth time.

She didn't startle easily, his 21C; and she didn't now. To her credit Major Samantha Carter simply halted, turned on her heel to face him and all but came to attention.

"Sir?" she responded.

Jack tipped the brim of his hat out of the way, tilted his head back and looked up at her. Way up. Carter was not a small woman, in substance or height (or courage or brains or heart or skill or spirit for that matter.)

"Go take a walk," Jack said, making a gesture in the general direction of the door.

"Sir?" she asked.

"You're wearing a groove in the floor and interrupting my beauty sleep," O'Neill groused, "Go walk around out there and see what you can find out. See if you can find that Prophet guy. He seems to be in charge around here. Recon, Carter. You're good at it."

Though seemingly in the depths of kel-no-reem, Teal'c spoke without opening his eyes.

"Perhaps Major Carter could also locate Daniel Jackson."

Jack cast a baleful glance at the Jaffa but couldn't disagree with him.

"Yeah, find out where Daniel is. He's been gone long enough."

"Yes, sir," Carter answered and turned smartly on her heel again to head for the door.

Jack resettled his hat and closed his eyes again. It might have been his imagination but he would swear Carter's unusual blue eyes had looked relieved and grateful.

The truth was Samantha had been truly grateful to get out of that room and _do_ something. She hadn't quite developed the ability to catch sleep whenever possible, though she was working on it. She had never entertained any hope that she would accomplish Teal'c's ability to be completely relaxed and utterly vigilant at the same time.

She walked through brightly lit halls made entirely of gray-swirled white stone and glass windows. In her black ops uniform, Carter felt entirely too exposed.

Yet she had not sensed the presence of any Goa'uld, and none of her other senses were running on anything but mild alert. Neither were O'Neill's, if he felt the need to indulge in food and 'beauty sleep'. The thought was comforting.

The sound of voices drew her towards a corridor running off to her left. Sunlight was streaming in from open glass doors and she could see the winged figure of the Trevithian, Faelan, and his unusual four-legged companion. They were standing on a balcony with a pillared railing that would not have been out of place in the Mediterranean. Faelan was being addressed by a short woman in a matte green tunic and pants, who was waving a wooden spoon at him as if it were a weapon. It was quite clear the woman was agitated.

Amused and intrigued by the sight of the fearsome warrior being held captive by a little gray-haired woman threatening him with nothing more than a serving spoon, Samantha crept closer.

"Storm ate what?" Faelan was saying, in a tone of bemused bewilderment.

"No less than _two_ of the pork roasts I was planning to serve for last meal, and now there aren't enough to serve everyone!" The plump little woman spoke as if the space/time continuum had somehow been disrupted.

"Bad woof," Faelan said, looking sternly at the gigantic animal.

Storm's mouth dropped open in a canine grin and his long pink tongue lolled out again, just as it had in the room where they had first been received. Samantha found herself trying not to grin with him.

"They were on the counter marinating in tarramin sauce!"

Faelan's mouth turned down slightly and his eyebrows quirked. Still spearing his furry companion with a bemused look he said,

"They must have been delicious."

Storm collapsed on the ground, rolled on to his back and waved all four paws in the air. His jaw was still open and he swiped his tongue around his lips; his eyes were closed in an expression of pure bliss.

Sam swallowed an unprofessional giggle and crept closer on silent feet.

"Mistress Yagga," Faelan interrupted just as the woman was taking a deep breath and preparing another burst of verbal outrage over her missing hens, "Do you still have the tarramin sauce?"

"Of course," she said, feathers still ruffled.

Faelan's smile was all charm.

"The League from my Weyr is on its way and they are bringing fresh caught fish from the Senova Sea. I believe there is still time to marinate them before we will be served last meal? You know how much Solivar and Gareth and Jehain love your fish."

The woman, Yagga Samantha assumed, seemed to derail in the middle of a well planned rant. Her sharp little eyes got a particularly bright gleam.

"Yes," she murmured, "that will work nicely." Then she waved the spoon at him again and looked fierce, "But you keep that beast out of my kitchen."

Faelan bowed slightly from the waist.

"Yes, Mistress," he said, mildly.

The little woman in green turned and wandered off through an open door to the right, muttering to herself. Storm leapt to his feet and shoved his massive head under Faelan's hand. Faelan scratched his ear affectionately.

"Bad woof," he repeated softly, but there was no sting in the words.

At that point, both man and beast turned to regard Samantha.

"Don't let our cook bother you," he said, in the same soft timbre he had been using all along, "she's rather touchy about large furry creatures in her kitchens."

Samantha walked out onto the balcony to join them. A fresh breeze blew softly from the north, bringing the faint scent of salt water. She smiled and he smiled back. Sam was temporarily blinded by the brilliance of that smile, even white teeth and sparkling dark eyes worked together to dazzle the senses. Fine olive-tinted skin burnished high cheekbones and shadowed the angle of his bristled jaw. Beneath the leather braid on his forehead exquisitely carved bone defined the arch of heavy eyebrows above those dark, dazzling eyes. Up close, the flesh of his wings shined, even though they were folded close against his back. He was tall and broad-shouldered and, with the addition of the soaring wings, he blotted out the sky when Sam looked up at him.

It took Samantha a breath or two to find her voice.

"I don't know," she said, lightly, "That spoon seemed quite terrifying."

"To be honest, I think that spoon may be the most feared weapon in the entire place."

Samantha laughed then and Storm pranced on his front feet, bowed, stretched and gave a short howl of enjoyment. Sam reached out and gently stroked the top of the wolf's silky head.

"Be careful doing that," Faelan said and Sam nearly jerked her hand back. This time the Trevithian's smile was almost wolfish, "He won't leave you alone for hours once you start petting his head."

Sam laughed for the second time in as many minutes. She spent a few more minutes in companionable silence before blurting out the first thing in her mind.

"Can you really fly?"

Sam had seen Daniel, many times, direct a conversation in exactly the way he wanted it to go. He could ask just the right questions in just the right order and just the right way to get people to give up information as if they couldn't wait to tell him. It was his Gift, truth be told.

But it wasn't one Sam shared. When she wanted an answer, she asked a direct question.

"Is there no one like me where you come from?" Faelan asked.

Samantha's gaze swept the tall handsome leather-clad man with the enormous wings.

"No," she said, without a trace of the disingenuousness, "There isn't anyone like you where I come from."

Faelan regarded her for a moment and then slowly unfurled his dark, membranous wings. He moved them just enough to create a very powerful breeze and then just as slowly closed them.

"Yes, I can fly. All of my kind can fly."

Samantha took a moment to digest that, the scientist in her demanding to know how or to see it happen. But she didn't have any right to such demands.

"Where I come from we have machines that let us fly. They're called planes," she said.

"Machines," Faelan repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. He seemed to consider it for a moment, a concept as strange to him as he must be to her. "Do you fly in one of these machines?"

Samantha's face brightened.

"Yes!" she said, "though not as often as I would like in the last few years."

"Why not?"

"I've been traveling through the Gate system, to other worlds, in search of ways to protect my world from the Goa'uld."

"Then we have a common enemy."

Diplomacy wasn't Sam's strongest trait but she recognized an opportunity when she saw one.

"I would hope we'd have more in common than that. We've found that allies have been the most important thing of all that we've discovered."

Samantha found herself pinned by frank, liquid dark eyes as both man and beast regarded her thoughtfully. Faelan's gaze was considered, almost daunting if Sam had not long ago gotten over being quelled by a look.

"I would like to visit your world," Faelan said, finally, "and fly in one of your machines with you. I cannot fathom giving up flying, even for a day, much less years."

It was Sam's turn to regard him. It was fairly easy to put a hat on Teal'c and take him out in public. Leaving the SGC with Faelan was going to be a bit trickier. Faelan looked like something that had been carefully crafted in the Underworld. An uncomfortable rush of awareness ran over her body and she hope fervently that her too fair complexion wasn't giving her away.

"After we rescue our missing men, I'd like to show you my world," she admitted. "I'm not sure it is possible, but we can try."

Faelan gestured at the sky and trees beyond their balcony.

"I haven't begun to show you mine," he said.

He held out his arms invitingly. It took Samantha a moment to realize that he was inviting her to fly with him, out there, in the sky; no machines, no science, nothing she understood at all - just his strong arms and powerful wings. It was all she could do not to take a step back.

It had taken her no time at all to recognize the look in Faelan's eyes however. They were filled with borderline passion and interest laced with desire. Men had looked at her like that before. The controlled energy of the man was even more apparent. But he didn't inspire fear. Instead, an answering energy eddied the blood in her veins and caused another hot flush.

"I'm afraid that will have to wait," she said, "My commander sent me to take a walk and to find Daniel. Jumping off a balcony could be considered a serious breach of those orders."

"Ah," Faelan nodded. "Orders. Those I understand. In here, within the walls of this city, no one would dare disobey anything I asked…." 

"Except your cook," Sam pointed out.

A smile tugged at the corners of his generous mouth and he nodded his head in a manner reminiscent of Teal'c.

"Except our cook," he acknowledged, "The people would worship the Gifted as gods if we allowed it. But out there," a nod of his head indicated the world beyond the balcony, "I am subject to Solivar, the Leader of my Weyr, who is also the commander of my Flight. Were I to disobey him in the slightest way, he would clip my wings himself."

Samantha laughed and nodded.

"He isn't intimidated by your Gift?" she guessed.

"Not the least," Faelan said. His teeth flashed in another display of wolfish smile. Then he sighed in a theatrical way, "If I am to remain grounded at least allow me to enjoy your company and help you complete your mission. Storm, find Dr. Jackson."

The enormous animal instantly scented the air and padded off in the direction of the hallway. Faelan moved off with him, every movement confident and lethal. Samantha Carter mentally shrugged and fell in beside them.


	9. Chapter 9

From his vantage point in an upper story window, Jack O'Neill watched his second commander talking to the guy he had mentally named Batman, though Jack wasn't sure he'd ever have the nerve to call him that to his face. It was evident he was flirting with Carter. It was just as evident that Carter was flirting back. Unlike Daniel, Carter 'got it' when the opposite sex paid attention. Jack usually let it go. As their commander he wasn't above using anything at his disposal to get information, even if it meant using the obvious sex appeal of SG1's scientists.

Still he didn't have to like it. Major Samantha Carter was the best second-in-command at the SGC; the best he had ever had. Hell she was probably the best in the Air Force, period. SG1 was damned lucky to have her. _He _was lucky to have her and she deserved every bit of his respect.

He was still watching when the Trevithian made a gesture with his arms that clearly indicated an invitation to something Jack was pretty sure he wouldn't approve of. If Bruce Wayne decided to take off with Carter, Jack might be tempted to do much worse than call him names. When it was obvious Carter was declining the invitation, Jack murmured to himself,

"Good girl."

He watched very carefully as Carter left the balcony and moved out of his field of vision. He resisted a sigh.

He'd be much happier when he had SG1 all back together, where he could see them.


	10. Chapter 10

Aurelian, Jehain and Faelan were dispatched to summon SG1 when the Trevithian delegation was nearing the city. Aurelan could See them, of course. The one called Teal'c had not moved from his unusual cross-legged position on the floor, for all the time they had been waiting. O'Neill was asleep sitting up, leaning back against a chair with his face hidden under the brim of his hat. The luminous, ethereal-looking blond woman was stretched out on a chaise with her eyes closed, breathing in a way that implied sleep.

Only Daniel Jackson was obviously awake. He was seated on the floor in the same position as Teal'c, writing hurriedly in a notebook. His glasses were sliding down his nose, but he seemed oblivious. He looked like a clerk, or one of the Scribes, hunched over his work.

There wasn't a hint of urgency and the more the Gifted had considered their guests, the less likely they thought an alliance with the Trevithian might be possible. Oh, two of the strangers were undoubtedly charming – and two of the Gifted were undoubtedly charmed by them. The other two seemed more content to lounge around than take action. The Trevithians came from a proud warrior tradition. Aurelan was uncertain what common ground they could have with the strangers.

That impression was instantly altered when the Gifted walked into the room. The group collectively known as SG1 came instantly awake. They rose to their feet in unison. Only O'Neill stayed in the same spot, waiting for the others to come to him. He planted his feet firmly and squared his shoulders. His hands rested with casual familiarity on the odd weapon that hung across his chest like a part of his anatomy. Whatever that weapon did, O'Neill knew how to use it.

The other three gathered weapons and moved in towards O'Neill like silent shadows, flanking him in a way that looked prearranged, positions taken from long habit. They had gone from looking harmless to looking lethal in less than a few heartbeats.

Faelan had seen Storm's wolf pack make the same transformation, suddenly scenting prey and gathering to hunt. The change in Samantha stirred something in his blood. Trevithian women flew to battle alongside the men. A Flight was often made up of both sexes. Faelan decided that he would need to find out more about the nature of the planes this woman flew on her home world. The sparkle and dance in her eyes when she had spoken of the flying machines had led him to believe they must be recreational. He was beginning to think that was not so.

Jehain stared at them breathless. A moment before the emotional aura in the room had been calm and peaceful, blue with a hint of purple from the mix of red anticipation. Now it bordered on navy, the color of the sky at night under a full moon.

The four of them thrummed with the same energy, like four arrows drawn back on the same bow.

Even Daniel. No one would mistake him for a clerk any more, unless it was a particularly dangerous one. The notebook had vanished and his glasses had righted themselves. His weapon had been retrieved to rest purposefully in his hands, though no one had seen the gestures that had caused those things to happen. There was no longer a shred of anything innocuous or innocent about him.

And Teal'c! Jehain would not have wanted to run into him in the full light of day, much less in the dark.

SG1 has done with waiting and sleeping. That much was clear.

Beside her, Jehain could feel Faelan react. The Trevithian warrior in him was waking up, responding unconsciously to the energy in the room. His golden eyes had taken on that glazed sleepy look she knew meant danger.

Aurelan had to swallow twice before she could speak.

"The Trevithians approach," she said.

Faelan spoke up. "It is my Flight. You'll be meeting with Solivar, the Flight Leader."

O'Neill turned his shoulders just enough to make brief eye contact with each member of his team; then he looked Faelan straight in the eye.

"In that case," he said, "take us to your leader."


	11. Chapter 11

The Trevithians did, indeed, approach – by air, without the slightest hint of machinery. SG1 and their escorts stood on the balcony where Sam had spoken with Faelan earlier. Watching them winging in like some kind of graphic novel super heroes, Jack murmured under his breath,

"Holy air force, Batman."

"I'd say they can fly, sir," Carter pointed out obviously.

Five more of the forbidding winged beings came to land on the balcony, back winging in a way that made the air currents rush around SG1. They were dressed in leather, but not in any way that resembled a uniform. They were armed with lethal looking crossbows and knives. Four of them lined up neatly behind a man who made Faelan seem short and insignificant.

Faelan spoke to him.

"These are the strangers I sent word about," he began and then made introductions of each member of SG1, "Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson, Major Carter and Teal'c. Colonel, our Weyr Leader, Solivar."

The imposing male gave a short, brief nod of his head in O'Neill's direction. O'Neill returned it in kind.

"My Flight," Faelan said, indicating the others who had just arrived, "My sister Rhaevan and her mate Draekovar, their son Kristovar; and Solivar's son and second in command, Gavinar."

Solivar turned his golden-eyed gaze on Jack in a way that should have branded the colonel.

"Faelan's message explained the situation," he said, bluntly, "Tell me, O'Neill, why I should risk my friends and family to save yours?"

Jack was startled for a moment, though it didn't show outwardly. If he were to be honest, there was no answer to the Trevithian Leader's question. In Solivar's place he would be asking the same thing.

Sensing the beginning of a testosterone driven pissin' contest, Daniel saved him from having to reply. He stepped forward, imposing himself between their only hope for rescuing Mallory and Davidson and whatever smart-assed remark Jack was about to make.

"Because you hate the Goa'uld, the ones you call Luciferians,as much as we do."

Daniel spoke with such authority that his own team turned to gape at him. He ignored them, his blue eyes riveted on Solivar as if they were the only two people in the world. Solivar's eyes narrowed dangerously, which Daniel appeared not to notice. Teal'c noticed though. His broad frame tensed in preparation, in case he needed to get between Daniel and someone intending to lop his head off.

"Decades ago," Daniel went on, "they took your sister. They probably still have her."

"Daniel," Jack interrupted.

Daniel turned his head just enough to see Jack from the corner of his eye.

"Jehain showed me their history. It's documented."

"And you failed to tell me this, why?" Jack demanded.

Daniel rolled his eyes impatiently. "Since when do you want a lecture on history? Besides, you were asleep."

"I wasn't sleeping!" he protested.

But then Jack fell silent again. He wasn't sure what Daniel had discovered, but he had always been their voice. Jack would run with this. O'Neill glanced at Jehain, but she was staring at Daniel.

From the time she had been quite small, Jehain had seen and felt the emotions of others. She was familiar with all the rainbow colors and subtle textures of feelings in a way that only those born to be Empath could claim.

She had never encountered anything like the aura surrounding Daniel at this moment. He was angry, but it was not anger she was used to. The aura surrounding Daniel was black, in a way that spoke of winter midnight and deep caverns, cold and dismal. He had used the word 'hate' to describe the way they felt about the Goa'uld – and his team had reacted with the usual reds and oranges that signaled anger. Whatever Daniel felt for the Goa'uld, it was far more than hate. Whatever the Goa'uld had done to him, it had unleashed something from the darkest abyss of the human soul.

_My wife died a long time ago… _

The realization hit Jehain hard. Tears rose in her eyes and fell unchecked.

"Faelan," she whispered, putting her hand on his arm to draw his attention.

If Faelan had any questions, they were answered when he saw Jehain's tears.

"Solivar," he said, in a soft differential tone, "Perhaps you should listen."

Solivar had not taken his eyes off Daniel.

"Yes," he said, finally, "They did; and I have no great motivation to risk any more of my kind to them. Gabrielan is lost. None have ever come back."

"That isn't true," Daniel challenged, "or maybe it is here, but it isn't for us. We have allies who can remove the parasite and save the host. We've done it. We saved my brother-in-law."

"The Luciferians had your brother?" Solivar asked suspiciously.

"My brother-in-law, my wife's brother," Daniel said, "and not the Luciferians but those like them. The Goa'uld live on many planets. If you take us to Cria, we'll help you find Gabrielan."

The more Daniel spoke of the Goa'uld the more the aura around him writhed like something trying to break free, terrible and malignant. Jehain was horrified; wondering what would ever happen if Daniel lost control of it, or worse, decided to embrace it. She didn't know how he lived with it, how he endured it.

"We don't leave our people behind, especially not in the hands of the Goa'uld," Daniel went on, "I'm not sure what else we can offer you in an alliance, but at the moment we can offer you hope. If Gabrielan is alive and we can bring her back with us, our allies will free her from the demon. Look, Solivar," he began to speak in a rush, bolstered by the courage of his own convictions; "I don't know exactly how long a Trevithian lifespan is. I don't know what a year is here compared to a year on my home world. I know Faelan is serving his third term as Caller in the Circle of Gifted, so you must out live humans by decades. Is that what you want for your sister? Decades of living hell at the hands of a demon, unable to escape even into death?"

The members of the Flight were exchanging significant glances. Daniel was reaching them if not their Leader. Jack had shifted uncomfortably when Daniel promised to find Gabrielan as well as Mallory and Davidson. But there wasn't much he could do about it.

Daniel was still speaking, knowing from experience that his audience – in this case Solivar – was listening and starting to be swayed.

"There aren't enough of us to do more than rescue those three, but we can come back with a larger force, with ships and enough troops to take the island and rescue as many as we can."

Jack and Teal'c exchanged a glance, each wondering what exactly Hammond was going to say about that.

Without warning Sam spoke up. "What Daniel is telling you is the truth. I was once taken as a host. Our allies, the Tok'ra, can remove the parasite."

Daniel shot Samantha a look that showed how moved he was by her admission, and grateful. Sam hardly ever talked about Jolinar, unless circumstances demanded it. She certainly never talked to Daniel about it. It had been pure misery for them both that Sam had never been able to unbury the one memory from Jolinar that they had wanted. Jolinar had claimed to know where Sha're could be found, but Sam had never been able to determine if it had been the truth. Daniel had never blamed her, never let it adversely affect their relationship. But Sam had always felt like she had let him down.

It was bending the truth a little bit, now, to say the Tok'ra had saved her, but her survival after being taken as a host was all that mattered at the moment.

Solivar regarded Carter with no expression at all for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, shifting one enormous wing out of the way, at Gavinar.

"Send for the rest of the Flight. Have them bring carriers. We leave for Cria at dusk."

Gavinar nodded with military precision, walked to the edge of the balcony and launched into the air. O'Neill had to admit it was among the coolest of things they had seen in their travels through the Gate.

Solivar turned back to SG1.

"Your people should be ready as well, O'Neill," he said.

"They already are," Jack answered.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack's immediate reaction to the Trevithian plan to reach the island of Cria was,

"Oh _hell_, no."

Six more members of Solivar's Flight had arrived with the 'carriers' – which were exactly what they were named; and Solivar expected SG1 to sit in the carriers while they were lifted into the air and flown to the island, under the cover of night, by the Trevithians.

They had been standing on the edge of a sea cliff, with a rather spectacular drop-off into churning water. Daniel had approached the edge gingerly and then backed off in haste. His face was roughly the same color as the green sea stretching to the horizon in front of them. Daniel didn't like heights, though he had been pushing himself to overcome the phobia. He didn't want _anything_ to stop him from being a functioning member of what was really a military unit. Jack had watched him working on the issue and approved, in silence of course. A team was only as strong as its weakest link. At the moment, SG1 didn't have a weak link. At all. Just the way O'Neill wanted it; and Daniel _had_ jumped out of plane for him just a short while ago, with nothing more than a pained expression and a sense of resignation. Daniel would do anything to protect his team, even if it meant dealing with a drop off a cliff.

But there were heights – and there were _heights. _Jack cast Daniel a worried glance, hidden by the brim of his cap, and then turned his attention to the view beyond the cliff.

If one wasn't considering sitting in a basket attached to winged super heroes, the view was stunning. The view was enhanced by the single island sitting serenely about twenty miles off shore, silhouetted by a glorious sunset.

Though of course that serene little island was a Goa'uld stronghold, in which two members of the SGC were being held as potential hosts.

And the only way to get to it was an insane plan to be air lifted by giant flying monkeys.

Jack resisted the urge to sigh and ground his teeth instead. Daniel was starting to get that resigned look on his face again. Teal'c looked, well, like Teal'c – solid and imposing, but with the barest trace of uncertainty. Jack shrugged it off. There was a job to do and Teal'c would do it, even if he did not think it was wise.

Carter looked ….. Damn. Carter looked utterly delighted, like a teenager waiting in line for a thrill ride at the county fair. She was walking around with Bruce Wayne… all right _Faelan_, inspecting the basket-like carriers and having an animated conversation. She had clearly become infatuated with the Flying Trevithians, and at least one of them was infatuated with her. So right now the idea of jumping off a cliff being carried by a comic book hero must seem terribly exciting to his normally level-headed 21C. Diamond-blue eyes were glittering. Brilliant smile was dazzling.

Jack resisted another sigh. Stronger men than this rugged Trevithian had fallen to those eyes and that smile. Jack had good reason to know it. Carter was one of the best sharp shooters in the SGC but she could kill you just as dead with one sexy look. He was beginning to regret sending her out on that recon mission. It wasn't a bell he could unring; and at the moment he had more important issues – like figuring out another way to get to that island.

As if reading his mind, Teal'c pointed out, "I see no other possible plan, O'Neill."

"I don't either," Daniel said, coming to join them.

Jack glanced at him. Daniel no longer looked as green as a field of clover, but he wasn't happy. Still. Daniel would rather suffer a major coronary event brought on by extreme terror than go back to the SGC without Mallory and Davidson.

They were interrupted by the odd arrival of Kael, the Teleport. He ignored SG1 and went to speak to Solivar. Jack moved in to listen.

"Aurelan reports that they are still being held in the same cell, beneath the east wing of the fortress. She believes it is the first level down," Kael said.

Faelan had joined them now, along with a still luminous Carter.

"How many Jaffa are in this place?" Jack asked.

"Guards," Daniel supplied, when the Trevithians exchanged blank looks.

"We have never seen more than twenty at a time. But we believe there are perhaps fifty Luciferians living on the island," Solivar appeared to have pretty good intel on the island. He noticed the hard look O'Neill was giving him. "They are the enemy, if a quiet one. We do regular surveillance. They have no ships, no weapons but the fire staffs. The fortress is ancient and not of their design. There are at least five among them who were stolen from my people and have the ability to fly."

SG1 shared a long conversational exchange of glances. If the Fortress had indeed been built by the Ancients then there wasn't any technology available that they could use – unless they found a host with the Ancient gene …a host like Jack for example.

"Do they have hand devices?" Daniel asked.

Again the Trevithians stirred, ripples going down their wings. Daniel reluctantly described the Goa'uld weapon

"We are unfamiliar with such a device," Faelan said, finally.

"So what is your plan?" Jack asked, turning back to Solivar. There was a hard set to O'Neill's jaw and a flat look in his eye. SG1 knew very well he didn't like having to ask.

"I assume the four of you will insist on entering the fortress to retrieve your friends, even if I would advise against it?"

Jack rocked on his heels, "You assume correctly," he said, in a long slow drawl.

No one in SG1 argued with that particular drawl…. Well maybe Daniel on occasion, but even he would choose not to at the moment.

Solivar nodded "We will be landing on a beach just beyond the jungle on the north side of the island. My Flight will then head to the sea cliffs and hold them for our return. Faelan will accompany two of you – your choice, Colonel – to find your are being held in one of the guard towers. Those are often patrolled by dogs. Let Faelan deal with them. The other two will come with me and find my sister."

Faelan flashed them a wolfish grin. It appeared to encompass them all but it lingered on Samantha.

Jack said, "Teal'c, Daniel, you're with Faelan. Sam with me. We'll need the tranquilizer gun from the F.R.E.D back at the Gate, and I want the rappelling equipment too, if there's going to be towers involved; and we need to report our situation to Hammond so he doesn't send another team after us."

"I will take Major Carter to the Gate," Faelan said, "It is nearly dark. Flight will be faster."

Jack frowned. Sam looked elated. Jack let it go. They needed the equipment.

"Let me ask a stupid question," Jack said."Is there some reason that our Teleporting friend here doesn't just pop over there and bring them back?"

The ripple that went through the Trevithians was no longer puzzled. This one was aggravated. It verged on hostility. Kael's hands clenched and his mouth set in a straight line. It was the first time Jack had seen any of them look anything but serene.

"Jack!" Daniel hissed, in that way that said he was ready to throttle Jack on the spot.

O'Neill wasn't that dense. He got it immediately. In the chain of command on this planet, this teen aged boy out ranked them all. Young or not, Kael was one of their Gifted and it meant something.

The boy spoke, in a tight frustrated voice.

"I can't. It's too far."

"Kael," Faelan said, comfortingly.

The Teleport's eyes narrowed for a moment and then he simply vanished, gone in a small ball of light. Faelan sighed. Jack looked uncomfortable.

"Kael is the youngest to ever be accepted among the Gifted," Faelan explained. "Our former Teleport died suddenly and we had to replace her before Kael was fully trained. Once his Gift has fully matured he will be able to travel to that island and even further. For now he must remain closer to home."

Jack remained silent for a moment, then nodded and said, "It's fine. We're used to resorting to Plan B."

Solivar gave O'Neill a measured look. But if the Trevithian was waiting for an apology he had a long wait ahead of him. Solivar must have sensed it for he went on then,

"When your missions are complete, do not wait for the rest of us. Make for the sea cliffs and get off the island," Solivar stated firmly.

"We already told you, we don't leave people behind," Daniel began.

"Daniel," Jack cut him off shortly.

It was clear that Jack had startled Daniel. The archaeologist stared at the Colonel with blatant question in his eyes. Jack considered just making it an order and leaving it at that, but Daniel had a way of looking at him that made him want to answer.

"If Mallory and Davidson are in the condition I expect to find them, we get them off the island first. Everything else we'll make up as we go," Jack said.

No one asked what condition jack expected to find them in. They all hoped it was simply exhausted, malnourished, dehydrated – all the things Dr. Frasier could fix.

"And," Jack went on ruthlessly, "I don't care if we find Mother Theresa being held prisoner in that place. Your mission objective is Mallory and Davidson."

Daniel frowned at the ground but held his tongue. Carter let her eyes wander until they found Faelan. Teal'c was the only one to meet O'Neill's gaze. None of them were happy about that, but there it was and now Jack had given them the order. None of them, not even Daniel, would argue with him.

But Jack knew Teal'c would have to watch Daniel carefully. Daniel thought orders were 'very strongly worded suggestions.' Teal'c had once commanded armies. O'Neill hoped that was enough experience to help him deal with one rebellious archaeologist.

As if reading Jack's thoughts, Daniel suddenly turned abruptly and strode purposefully over to the closest of the hanging baskets in which they would ride. His eyes creased at the corner in a continued frown.

Jack strolled up to him casually.

"You going to be able to do this?" the Colonel asked, conversationally.

Daniel glanced at him.

"Sit in this thing while we jump off a cliff? Sure. Why not? It's not like we haven't done crazier things." His tone was sardonic.

"Have we?" Jack asked, "Frankly, I'd _much_ rather jump out of a plane again. Remind me to tell Requisition that I want parachutes included in our packs from now on."

"Short sighted of them not to have done so before now," Jackson muttered. "You never know when cliff diving will become part of the plan."

"It will be over before you know it," he said.

"What? My life?" Daniel asked.

O'Neill put his hand on Daniel's shoulders and squeezed – hard. They didn't say anything after that. The first hint of dusk approaching signaled an end to discussion. It was time to prepare. The reality of their Search and Rescue mission had begun.


	13. Chapter 13

To their credit, none of them screamed. The initial leap off the cliff, sitting in a basket suspended between two aliens who really did _not _look like they could fly, had been breathtaking. In the early days of Disneyland it would have been a guaranteed E-ticket ride. Jack had actually loved every moment of the adrenaline rush and hated himself for it. He was too old and cynical to be enjoying something this idiotic.

Jack had wondered briefly if Daniel had passed out, since he vanished into the basket not long after 'take off'. After they had leveled out and the flight became smooth, Daniel had cautiously poked his head back up. He looked none the worse for the adventure, though Jack could tell he had removed his glasses. Maybe it was much easier to fly through the gathering darkness with the sounds of the ocean below them if he couldn't see it. Teal'c had remained classically stoic, possibly in a deep state of kel'no'reem.

Carter ….. Carter wasn't _in _a basket. She was in the arms of Faelan. Her arms were entwined around his neck in a way that seemed much too familiar. They looked like Superman and Lois Lane in the movie, except for the wings. Jack was glad the darkness kept him from seeing her eyes. He was certain they were shining like polished diamonds.

What _was _it with Carter and good-looking aliens? Jack ground his teeth. At least this one didn't have a snake in his head, even if he did have the wingspan of a gargoyle.

They hit the beach under cover of darkness and moved into the shadows of the jungle as if they had done it a thousand times, even though they had only briefly discussed the plan. Teal'c, O'Neill and Daniel vaulted out of their baskets as soon as it was safe to do so and helped drag them under cover (and just when, O'Neill wonder,had _Danie_l learned to leap and run like that?).

Samantha had simply swung her legs down and hit the ground running, stride for stride with Faelan, who loped like a wolf beside her.

P90s and crossbows were distributed with silent precision. Half of the Trevithian Flight vanished into the jungle without a word, baskets strapped to their backs and cross bows held ready. They were on their way to securing the cliff above the Fortress for what O'Neill hoped would be a speedy getaway.

Back in the city that seemed made of nothing but alabaster and white stone, their black ops uniforms had made them stand out like spots on a Dalmatian. Now SG1 blended into the shadows as they were part of the jungle itself.

Solivar and Faelan took point. Teal'c, Daniel and two of the Trevithians whose names O'Neill had already forgotten had their six. Jack fell in with Carter naturally enough and then was inordinately pleased that he was the one stalking the jungle beside her.

Then they were breaking through the edge of the jungle into a clearing and "the Fortress" was looming before them.

(0)

As prisons went, Col. Gerald Mallory, USAF, Earth, had decided, this one wasn't all that bad. Of course they had been tortured, repeatedly, without mercy, until it had become obvious they weren't going to say anything about where they had come from or how. It had apparently been decided that everything they knew could be gotten much more easily by just taking them as hosts.

So now they were being fed regularly. The cell was reasonably clean, if barren and soulless. The only light was from something hanging weakly in the hallway. It was possibly the only source of heat as well, but only the nights had been chilly. He and Rusty were still together, though they had no idea where Scotty and Jillian were and, on the chance that they had never been captured, they hadn't dared to ask about them. They could both use a shower but that was such a common condition of being off world that they hardly noticed it any more. Their injuries had been healed, even if it had been in one of those god-awful sarcophagus things. The knowledge made him shiver. He'd read the report about the effects of long-term exposure to a sarcophagus. It had been pretty specific that such a thing was better avoided. It had also blacked out the name of the poor bastard who had endured repeated exposure and the violent withdrawal that had followed like some kind of hapless lab rat.

It wasn't hard to figure out who it had been though. Dr. Jackson didn't usually come back from off world enraged and throwing things.

Mallory rolled over on the metal bunk and watched Rusty Davidson do the last in a long series of sit ups. On the last one, Rusty just fell back onto the hard concrete floor and lay there staring at the ceiling, arms up over his dark red hair, blue eyes closed.

"We're going to get out of this you know," he said, into the dimly lit room.

Rusty snorted.

"Sure," he said, "Once we each get a snake put in our heads they'll let us out."

"That's not gonna happen," Mallory stated. "We're getting out of here, we're finding Jillian and Scotty and we're going home."

"Look, Mal," Rusty sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, military discipline breaking down in the face of the incredible odds against them. They had been friends for years. "Even if we could figure out how to get through the bars, we don't have a god damned clue where Jillian and Scotty are. Hell, Mal, we don't even know where _we _are."

"We'll find them," Mallory repeated, with the cussedness Rusty knew too well. He wondered if being pigheaded was a prerequisite for promotion to Colonel.

They locked eyes. Even in the dim light, Davidson could feel his CO's eyes boring into his own.

"You feel like going back to the SGC and telling Dr. Jackson we came back without Jillian?" Mallory asked, "Or flying out to L.A. and telling Scotty's mom and sister?"

Rusty winced. Scotty's sister was four years older than him, with Down Syndrome and she adored her little brother. Rusty's dad had been career Air Force, shot down in the first Gulf War.

Dr. Jackson …. Okay, it's not like they knew him really well, even though he'd taken to coming along with Jillian whenever SG8 was hanging out at one house or another. But he was a really _nice _guy and he'd saved the planet a time or two already. He'd also only just lost his wife and it was clear he adored Jillian. No one should have to endure something like that twice in one year.

And something neither one of them would say out loud – what was SG8 without them? How could they rebuild a team when half of it was gone? The loss of one of them would be unbearable. To lose two of them was …impossible.

Mal was right. They would _not_ go back without Jillian and Scotty.

"You're forgetting something," Rusty said.

Mal glared at him, or at least it seemed like he did. "What?"

"If Jillian's still on this god forsaken piece of rock, then Dr. Jackson's already here too, looking for her; and if he's here, SG1 is with him."

Mallory rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, unseeing. SG1. Now _that _was a reason to hope. Jack O'Neill had a dog in him that wouldn't lie down when it came to rescuing people.

"What did I tell you?" He said, "Nothing to worry about. We're getting out of here and going home. So get some sleep. We're going to need to be rested when they come for us."


	14. Chapter 14

Meritaten, Goa'uld queen and ruler of the Island of Cria, beloved of Aten, walked out onto a balcony on the cliff side of the Fortress. Dusk had come, and with it, a feeling of unease. The air was filled with the crashing of the waves on the Reef Ridge and the tangy scent of salt spray. She moved proudly, certain of her own importance even with no audience to impress. She was sheathed in a diaphanous white gown that gleamed in the light and left nothing of the lush body beneath it hidden. The low cut neckline was adorned with a heavy color of lapis and carnelian – a gift centuries past from her god Aten. Her extraordinary face was made more so by eyes as black as a starless night, framed in thick lines of kohl. Black hair rippled to her shoulders. A set of graceful wings rose up above her head and she opened them now, fanning them slightly in the evening breeze.

She would have liked to launch from the balcony. But her relationship with her current host had never been as one sided as she wanted. This host was strong. All the Trevithian hosts had proven to be; but this one had raged and fought with her for centuries. She had been one of the last to be taken from the Werys and the Goa'uld had lost the last of their Jaffa in the carnage.

Meritaten could control this host most of the time. But she didn't want to plunge into the sea because her host sensed a chance to kill them both; and Meritaten had no doubt that the host would kill them given half a chance. They were in an untenable position on the island. Their population was dying and even their two prisoners would not change that – unless they had information about the Stargate and how they had come through it and where they had come from.

The decision was on whom to give the new hosts to was hers and she had made it. She was waiting now for the man who had served her well for decades. He had been her lover once and had served her well there too, until his current host had aged beyond regenerating. Footsteps alerted her to his presence, though he remained in absolute silence until she deigned to notice him.

Akhetaten – the horizon of the Aten – studied the lovely form of his Queen and wished, not for the first time, that he had also been given a winged host all those decades past.

Without turning around, Meritaten asked "Whom do you serve Akhetaten? Tell me the list in order."

Her voice was midnight, sepulchral and deadly and it sent icy claws ripping down his spine. His Queen was not the kind to rant or scream when she was angry. She didn't have to.

He straightened his shoulders as best he could, "I serve my God, the living Aten who creates life; and then my Queen. Then my people and then the Island of Cria, our home."

"Remember that," Meritaten said, turning finally. Moonlight gleamed off ebony wings. "Remember it with everything you are. Now go to the Tower and choose a new host."

Akhetaten dropped, slowly and painfully, to one knee and bowed his head.

"My god's will is my life" he said.

Meritaten regarded him for a moment, not really believing a word of it, and then turned back to face the sea.

"Akhetaten" she said, when she heard him struggle back to his feet.

"My Queen?"

"The older man may have more useful information to provide us" she said, neutrally.

"Yes, my Queen," he said.

Bowing and walking backwards even though his Queen still looked out to sea, Akhetaten left the balcony.

A moment later, Meritaten heard a soft _pop_. A pain pricked her just above her shoulder blade, like the sharp sting of an insect. She slapped at it and pulled a long dart out of her back. Frowning and finding no immediate outlet for her outrage, she spun around to look for whatever fool had shot at her with so ineffectual a weapon.

Spinning was a bad idea however. A moment later, the entire world was spinning. A gray haze formed before her eyes that eventually slid into black and Meritaten dropped to the floor.

(0)

From the rooftop above and to the left of the balcony, Solivar watched as his sister – or at least his sister's body – crumbled and fell. Part of him – that which was still her brother – was horrified to watch her fall in such a way, certain she was dead. Another part of him – the warrior – was more than slightly impressed that the ethereal looking woman beside him had made that shot, in the dark, from a rooftop a thousand yards away.

Solivar turned to regard Samantha Carter with new respect. She had been flown across land and sea and just recently up to the rooftop – and was only thrilled by it. If Solivar had been forced to label her previous to this he would have guessed she was their group's Empath.

It was now obviously clear that she was more like Rhaevan – a Warrior.

Misunderstanding Solivar's level scrutiny, Sam said, "She's fine."

"You assured me, she would be," Solivar said, solemnly. "I will take her to sea cliff. Do you wish someone to return for you?"

"No, I'll be rejoining my team," Carter said, firmly. She glanced over her shoulder at the prison tower, gleaming black and mahogany in the moonlight and not that far away.

Solivar considered arguing with her and rejected it. Any good member of his own Flight would insist on remaining behind until they were all together; and Samantha Carter was a very good member of her team.

"You should leave with her, Solivar, "Carter said, and he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was serious, "We don't know how long that drug will affect her. We can't chance her waking up and starting to scream. You know what you have to do?"

Her voice again told him more than her words. She understood how difficult it would be for Solivar to imprison his own sister until they could contact the Tok'ra. But it had to be done. She had not known Solivar very long, but she already knew with all of her military honed senses that he had that 'something' that made a great leader. He would make the tough decisions and stick to them.

Sam hoped this adventure would prove to be successful enough that it would form the basis of a strong alliance with Solivar and his people.

"Yes" he said, shortly "I will tell the rest of the Flight to wait for you."

Sam nodded and moonlight glinted off blond hair with the movement. Without another word, Solivar spread his wings and sailed silently down to the balcony. He lifted his sister into his powerful arms and then launched once more into the air. Samantha waited until he vanished into the distance and the dark and then whispered softly into her radio

"Sir?"

"Go ahead," O'Neill's voice crackled with static.

"Mission accomplished. Permission to join you?"

"Making my way to the prison tower. Get there best possible speed."

"Yes, sir."

Solivar had brought her up here, but she was on her own getting down. Sam slung the tranquilizer gun over her shoulder, settling the strap comfortable and securely. She made her way to the edge of the roof, unpacked and secured her rappelling gear and began to climb down.


	15. Chapter 15

Faelan took point through the jungle, taking them on a long shadowy route that had Daniel silently cursing vines, tree roots and nature in general. It wasn't that Daniel was incapable of traipsing through a foreign jungle in the semi-dark. In spite of the increased humidity, treacherous terrain and high gravity, he was barely even winded. Jack had seen to that. Jack didn't just train them. Jack tormented them.

Jack had made them do the obstacle course until their fingers were bleeding and the knees of their pants were torn. He had made them swim until their limbs shook so hard with fatigue they could barely get out of the pool. Workouts in the gym with Jack consisted of being challenged over and over to "just do five more." Jack had pushed them until Sam was nothing but a pale strip of moonlight and Daniel was bent over with his hands on his knees, panting and fighting nausea. There were times even Teal'c's shoulders were slumped and his face was gray, though the Jaffa never seemed to be anything less than delighted with the challenges.

Jack liked to pop balloons in the hall outside the labs and put mousetraps under bedspreads – not as pranks, but as a way to hone reflexes and response times; though it worked pretty well as pranks too. (When Jack wanted pranks it usually involved taking a priceless artifact out of Daniel's office and hiding it somewhere on the base; or scraping the filling out of Jillian's Oreos and replacing it with toothpaste, or putting salt in Sam's diet Coke when she left the table to get desert.)

Jack's last inspiration for new ways to torment his team had involved dragging them out of warm beds – one in which Daniel had been happily curled up around Jillian while wearing nothing but a contented expression – and forcing them to run up Cheyenne Mountain in full gear …. In the dark….without food or water…..in the freezing rain…..double time.

Daniel _hated_ double time; and at times he hated Jack. At times, he was certain that if Jack said, "Just do it again, Daniel!" one more time, Daniel would give in to his impulse to murder the man where he stood.

Since Jack O'Neill, even with his bad back and self-proclaimed 'sketchy' knees, could do it again then Daniel was damned if he himself would back down.

Maybe it was a testosterone thing.

But it wasn't about tormenting them. It was about staying alive – and Daniel knew that.

And Daniel was very interested in staying alive, as a general rule. To that end, he followed the enormous shadow that was Faelan but stuck close to the equally imposing shadow that was Teal'c. Staying close to Teal'c was a very good way to stay alive.

The jungle gave way to a beach that had to be reached by a narrow trail that wound down from a low cliff. Starlight glimmered on the inky black sea. The faint white lace of breakers hitting the shore shimmered in the moonlight. Daniel could hear the grind and splash of the waves as they hit against a jetty stretching out into the water. He crouched in the shadows and followed Faelan across the beach. Teal'c was so close behind him he almost clipped his heels.

Faelan took them to the gaping mouth of a cave set under the cliff. Above their heads towered the Fortress. Its foundations rose from the rocky wall.

With the preternatural awareness of each other that SG1 had developed, Daniel knew Teal'c had stopped less than instant after he did it. Faelan was a few steps ahead of them before he realized they were no longer following. Daniel turned to squint at Teal'c in the moonlight, eyebrows raised in question. Teal'c's vision was fixed on the Fortress.

"The lights are coming on," he observed in a low purr.

Daniel looked up and tried see what his friend was seeing. It escaped him. He turned back and waited.

"The light is flickering. It was weak before but now it is flickering."

Then Daniel understood. "Torches. Firelight." He said.

"Indeed," Teal'c said, "The Goa'uld truly have no control over the Ancient technology in this Fortress."

Daniel's eyes swept the prison tower and found nothing that looked like windows, which may be why it had been selected as a prison.

"That will make it easier, right?" The scientist asked the warrior, "It won't be brightly lit inside?"

Teal'c nodded. The _indeed_ was implied.

"These tunnels serve as drainage from the Fortress. The tower must have once served as bathhouses and kitchens but they've been removed. They will take us directly under the tower," Faelan informed them.

Daniel and Teal'c both produced powerful, narrow beam flashlights from side pockets. Faelan was intrigued but didn't say anything. It wasn't the time to be asking questions about the new comers' strange technology.

Inside the cave sounds echoed on all sides, bounced off rough stone walls and the low ceiling. Water dripped and resonated. After the humidity of the jungle, the cave was cool, if no less damp. Daniel almost shivered. Dark, cramped places didn't bother him. He'd been in some that didn't even allow him to stand.

Teal'c's radio crackled.

"_Teal'c_?"

"Go ahead, O'Neill."

"_Carter's gone to take care of Solivar's sister. I'm heading for you."_

"Are you inside the structure?"

"_Yes._"

"Proceed with caution, O'Neill," Teal'c warned.

The cave was wide enough for Daniel and Teal'c to walk side by side. At their six, Faelan walked in a slight crouch to keep his wing tips from brushing the ceiling. Daniel had watched as Teal'c did a quick assessment of their new surroundings. Unless Teal'c was in familiar surroundings and completely relaxed, he didn't see any space for its aesthetic appeal. In an average room, Teal'c didn't see furniture, windows and doors. He saw weapons, exits and defenses. So Daniel knew that right now Teal'c didn't see the cave for its conformation or geological nature. He saw it for the trap it could very well be.

"This formation does not appear natural," He observed, "Even a lava tube would be perfectly round. This floor is flat and the walls are too smooth."

The floor _was_ flat. It was also slick and damp and tacky.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed, "Speaking of which…. What _are _we walking in anyway?"

"I believe that is something upon which we should not dwell, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied. Then he added, "We should also be cautious."

The chain of command between Daniel and Teal'c had never been really clear. SG1 as a whole functioned with an ebb and flow of dominance depending on what task needed to be accomplished, and who was paired off with whom. At the moment Daniel considered them a two-man S&R team functioning as equals.

But Daniel knew when he shouldn't argue.

They crept through the gloom, step by careful step. Ahead of them, scurrying away from the light of their torches, black beetle-like insects chittered and scratched on the floor as they vanished away into the shadows. Seeing them made Daniel's skin crawl. Bugs had always been a part of excavations and archaeology but that didn't mean he had ever really gotten used to them.

Teal'c suddenly whispered.

"Stop."

Daniel's reaction was instantaneous. He planted both feet and froze. In the milky beam being thrown by his flashlight, Daniel could tell Teal'c was listening intently. Finally the Jaffa cast his own flashlight beam across the floor in front of them.

Daniel inhaled sharply.

There was a trip wire several inches above the floor directly in front of their feet. Beyond it the floor was a lethal sea of sharpened bamboo stakes pointing at the ceiling. Daniel shivered in earnest as icicles of realization melted in his blood. If he had taken two more steps, he'd have gone face down into that. He added his beam to Teal'c's and said,

"Are those…"

"Skeletal remains," Teal'c intoned. "Yes."

They exchanged a short conversational look, adding Faelan to the end of it.

"I guess they've never figured out how the security system works either," Daniel said, finally.

"This one seems equally effective," Faelan pointed out. He looked at Teal'c. "How did you know?"

How to explain? One hundred years of war experience, training at the hand of a master the caliber of Bra'tac, senses honed to a fine edge. Teal'c claimed he had not been born a warrior. He had made himself into one, and continued to do so every day of his life. But Daniel wasn't so sure about that.

Teal'c replied, "There was a sound, a hum of air moving over wire. I've heard it before."

"Excellent hearing," Faelan said, inclining his head in a gesture of respect, "A useful skill."

Teal'c gave him a brief nod in acknowledgement.

"You know what would be useful?" Daniel cut in, "Figuring out how to get around it."

Flashlights searched the walls and the edge of the floor. There appeared to be a narrow path, barely wide enough to put one foot in front of the other, on either side of the treacherous expanse of bamboo. It was going to be a challenge but there was no other way.

Teal'c went first. His normal steadiness was a comfort and a challenge to Daniel. Before Jack and his brutal training, Daniel wouldn't have even attempted something requiring this much grace and control. But he stepped forward without hesitation, even if his mouth was a little dry and his heart was beating a little too hard. He would do this and Teal'c, somehow, would make sure he didn't die in the process.

Daniel was the most concerned for Faelan, who would have to make this precarious journey bent over against the curve of the wall as it swept up into the ceiling. He motioned for the Trevithian to go next.

The six feet between them and the end of the trap seemed like six miles. Teal'c jumped the last part of it. He landed easily on both feet turned and clasped Faelan's hand to assist him in safely negotiating the remaining distance.

Then Daniel was unceremoniously grasped by the forearm and yanked forward. Reacting on instinct, he jumped off the balls of his feet and grabbed the first solid thing he came into contact with – which happened to be Teal'c.

He clung to his teammate in an awkward embrace as he tried to get his boots back under him.

"Hey," he quipped, "Come here often?"

He wasn't sure Teal'c would get the humor, because he most often did not. But the Jaffa answered with a hint of smile in his voice,

"I hear the food is very good."

From that point the floor sloped up and the conversation died. They had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and not sliding back down the way they had already come. As they got farther from the cleansing breeze of the sea, the smell inside the tunnel became much worse. Daniel found that he was holding his breath more and more.

They came at last to a locked access door – one that Faelan was going to get through with some effort. After searching without success for a way to open it Teal'c finally ordered them to stand back and kicked it in. To Daniel it seemed that he had barely broken a sweat.

The noise was considerable however. The splintering wood and shattering metal hinges made an impressive sound that echoed in the tunnels and off the tower walls.

They waited, weapons drawn and every sense alert but it seemed no one was coming. They stepped out into the dimly lit corridor of the tower and pressed up against the walls.

That was when they discovered that no one human – or Goa'uld – was coming. Nails scratching on the floor warned them of the approach of something with four feet; several somethings with four feet.

That caught the fine edge of Daniel's attention. As a general rule he liked animals. But animals guarding a prison tower that he had just broken into were perhaps a different matter.

The dogs that appeared were so black even the darkness couldn't hide them. To Daniel they were the living image of Anubis, the Jackal God of ancient Egypt – sleek, beautiful, and lethal; god of the dead They were crouched as they walked, noses twitching, ears upright. Hunting. Hunting _them_. Fear sizzled like cold lightning down his spine. He stopped himself from taking a step back with great effort.

But Faelan merely walked forward and then came to a stop. A heartbeat later the dogs were standing and wriggling the stubs of their tails and sniffing his hand as if he was a long lost friend.

_Caller_, Daniel thought, remembering Storm. He shared a look with Teal'c.

"They will take us to your friends," Faelan whispered suddenly, "If I have managed to successfully convey who it we're looking for."

"A useful skill," Teal'c intoned. Daniel caught the admiration in his voice even if it sounded flat to everyone else.

Faelan's wolfish grin flashed in the dark. They followed the dogs to a set of wooden stairs that circled up to the next level along the tower's outer wall. Cobwebs snatched at their hair and added to the eerie, tense feeling. Daniel half expected to hear evil laughter or ghostly voices whispering from the gloom all around them.

The second floor of the tower was no more hospitable than the first. There were lights in the ceiling that seemed on the verge of going out. Some of them already had. Daniel guessed that whatever crystal was powering them it was almost entirely drained after centuries of trying to keep one hallway lit.

The dogs moved like arrows, pausing only when they realized their two-legged companions were falling behind. The doors of all the rooms had been removed and replaced by metal bars. Nothing behind those bars stirred.

Until the dogs stopped in front of one door and Daniel heard a familiar voice snarl,

"What do you mutts want?"

"Mallory?" Daniel called.

"Dr. Jackson?"

"Daniel," he responded, automatically, impatiently, as he moved quickly to the barred doorway and shone the flashlight beam inside.

The stunned faces of Colonel 'Mal' Mallory and Captain Russell 'Rusty' Davidson stared back at him.

"Jillian and Scotty," Mallory began.

"Already back at the SGC," Daniel interrupted. "They were never captured. They're hurt but not badly."

Watching the Colonel Daniel saw the same reaction in him that he had often seen in Jack – the unfathomable ability to sag with relief while not moving a muscle.

Then Rusty muttered, "Holy _shit," _and Daniel turned to see what had scared the life out of a battle-hardened Air Force captain.

Faelan, melting out of the darkness like a demon from the abyss. Daniel had been fortunate enough to meet Faelan in the full light of day and it had made all the hair on his body stand up. At least Storm wasn't with him.

"It's okay," Daniel said quickly, "We met some of the locals. We couldn't have gotten in here without him. Faelan, this is Mallory and Davidson."

Faelan flashed one of those smiles that had wolves howling at the moon in it and Daniel kind of wished he hadn't. Mallory and Davidson didn't look any less wary.

While that exchange had been going on, Teal'c had been setting a small explosive charge in the lock on the door.

"Colonel," Teal'c rumbled, "Please stand back."

They vanished briefly into the dark at the back of their cell again. The explosive sparked in the dark, causing the dogs to whimper and step back. Teal'c, Faelan and Daniel took cover and a moment later the lock was shattered.

The door sprang open and the two former prisoners tumbled into the hall.

"Now what?" Mallory asked.

"Back the way we came?" Daniel asked, looking at Faelan and _not_ wanting to circumnavigate those bamboo stakes again.

"We'll go to the roof," Faelan said, apparently thinking the same thing, "I can get you to the beach and from there we make for the sea cliffs."

Daniel nodded, turned to Teal'c ….. and that was when they heard it. The familiar rattle of P90 fire. Behind his glasses, Daniel eyes flared open.

"What's Sam got with her?" he asked.

"A tranq gun and a zat," Teal'c answered.

The look they gave each other held a single syllable: _Jack._

Daniel turned to Faelan.

"Get them out of here and we'll be right behind you. We have to go get Jack."

"Dr. Jackson," Mallory began.

"You're unarmed," Daniel interrupted.

Mallory studied him in the gloom and thought about ordering the archaeologist to hand over his P90; and then decided it wasn't a pissing contest he could win. Jackson wasn't going to do it willingly; and the Jaffa was standing shoulder to shoulder with him as if they had been melded together. Mallory had no doubt Teal'c would side with Daniel and let them sort out chain of command with Hammond later.

He remembered something Jack had said to him once – that the leash holding Daniel and Teal'c was thick, but it was made only of loyalty and willingness to be led. Unfortunately, that loyalty and willingness had never been given to _him._ It belonged to Jack O'Neill.

He ground his teeth hard enough to break them but nodded.

Wondering at the surreal nature of following a winged nightmare as their guide to freedom, Mallory and Davidson turned to go in the direction of the stairway. Mallory looked once over his shoulder in time to see Daniel and Teal'c evaporate into the darkness. They had both been silent, moving as no more than shadows and looking more lethal than the dogs. His last thought as they vanished was,

_God have mercy on whoever had been stupid enough to threaten SG1…._

(0)


	16. Chapter 16

_He's probably going to murder me_…

One part of Sam's mind was working at accepting that, so that she could set it aside and stop dwelling on it. Another part of her mind was filled with a seething indignation that this Goa'uld had managed to corner and capture her with little more than a crossbow.

She had crept around a corner and there he was, with an arrow pointed at her head and a demand to know where his queen had been taken.

The greatest portion of her mind was focused on getting herself out of this situation before the rest of her team came after her. She _had _to get out of here because – god _damn_ – Jack was going to be so _pissed_ at her for getting caught.

And Teal'c was going to give her that _look. _She hated that look.

The Goa'uld had marched her to a circular room that had to be in one of the towers. They had gone up a set of circular stairs and Sam had been unceremoniously shoved into a room by use of the arrow still notched into the crossbow pointed at her back. She wondered if it was the prison tower but her excellent sense of direction indicated they had not gone that way. Heavy teakwood doors were closed but if they locked she didn't see it. Without moving a muscle or even turning her head, Sam took in her surroundings with all the training Jack, Teal'c and the USAF had given her.

Unbidden, Teal'c's voice was in her head.

_Tell me what is in this room that could be used as a weapon._

At the time they had been in Daniel's living room. She remembered grinning at Teal'c, unable to resist teasing him.

_The lamp, that statue and your stare._

She wished Teal'c was here with her now.

The room had once been opulent. The gilt and gold favored by the Goa'uld was absent. This had once been a room of tropical delight, with wood paneling and soaring wood ceilings. Fans hung from the beams overhead but they were still and covered in cobwebs. Lights put forth only a dim glow. The rest of the light came from the torches on the wall and the fire burning in the hearth. The only concession to Goa'uld excess seemed to be the heavy drapes covering the windows, no doubt to block out the cool island night air. The Goa'uld did not like cold, Sam knew.

_One of the torches,_ Sam thought, _if I can get it off the wall; the rod by the fireplace._

Escape would have to be through the door. The windows would lead only to a fast plunge to the ground below. Of course she was going to have to disarm him first, which meant getting close to him.

The Goa'uld had taken her pack, zat and tranquilizer gun and thrown them out the window. The gesture shocked her. It had been cold, calculated, and ruthless.

Much like the Goa'uld himself. He had been handsome once, Sam realized, golden brown skin, thick gray hair that must once have been black. His eyes were gold even when they were not flashing at her in anger. His broad-shoulders were now stooped with time – time that Sam knew could be countless centuries.

"Where have they taken my Queen?"

She thought his voice must have been deep even without the sibilant overtones given to it by his parasite. It caused a prickle of ice between her shoulder blades.

Ignoring her apprehension, Sam took a cautious step sideways, trying to circle him and get closer. The crossbow tracked her.

"Why should I tell you?" she asked, lifting her chin.

"Because if you do not you will suffer the consequences of your defiance."

Sam continued circling towards the torch on the wall. She didn't doubt his words. He exuded a kind of lethal elegance she knew would delight in torture.

"They've taken her host home," she answered. "You'll never see your 'queen' again; and it won't do you any good to keep asking me. I don't know where her 'home' is."

"Then you underestimate the Goa'uld." It was a vicious purr.

"Oh we never do that," Sam answered, refusing to back down. She was a bit surprised he was continuing to let her move, but since it appeared that she was heading for the implacable wall behind her and not the door, he apparently didn't care.

The flare of surprised in his eyes was deeply gratifying.

"Oh yes, we know who you are," Sam murmured. "We've run into you before and left a lot of you dead behind us."

"You _lie_," he snarled.

The sound of the P90 firing somewhere in the Fortress interrupted their conversation. Hope flared in Sam. At least one of her team was still free.

They would come for her. She just had to stay alive. The sound was unfamiliar to the Goa'uld. Surprise flitted across his face again and the muscles at the corner of his jaw bunched with frustration. His eyes flickered away from Sam for a split second.

It was all the time she needed. Sam dropped, tucked and rolled, coming back to her feet just under the torch. She felt more than saw the arrow coming towards her, warned by the lethal _snick_ of it being loosed from the bow. She rolled again but this time she had the torch in her hand and the crossbow was empty.

Sam hit the floor hard and realized she had jarred her shoulder twice now. The Goa'uld came at her with a roar and she threw the torch. He ducked it with a grace that surprised her. He might be living in an aging body but his reflexes were still good. Sam scrambled to her feet and tried to head for the door but he cut her off, blocking her exit.

The torch hit the wall, lay there for a second and then ignited the drapes above it. Deadly light and heat flared in the room. Hungry, the flames devoured the ancient drapes and began feasting on the wooden walls and licking frantically at the ceiling.

Sam coughed on the smoke and felt her eyes tearing up. The Goa'uld lunged at her then, enraged. His caught her in a backhanded blow across her cheek. Sam saw the blow coming and moved her head to disperse some of the energy. Still, it_ hurt_. God _damn_ it hurt.

It also filled her with a kind of blind rage.

Contrary to instinct but with perfect military training, Sam pivoted and hammered her elbow into his chest. He doubled over slightly as she hooked her right leg behind his and dumped him on the ground. She heard more than saw his head hit the floor but didn't take any chances. She kicked him solidly in the chin with the heavy toe of her military boot. Then she hit the door running and burst out into the hall.

Smoke and heat were already there ahead of her. The lower part of the tower was engulfed in flames. As far as she knew there was no other way down. Self preservation drove her up. Whether in the end she lived or died, she would strive to live as long as she could. Her team was somewhere in this building. They would be coming for her. If she could keep herself alive they would save her.

If she died … _Please, please don't let it be Jack that finds me. _She would jump off the top of this tower into the unforgiving death below if it would prevent Jack from being the one who found her dead body.

Sam ran up the stairs and out the first door she came to. She slammed it tight behind her and turned to survey her new surroundings. She was outside, on a balcony, which was good. But she was at the top of the tower with nowhere to go, which was very very bad. She remembered the shape of the tower. It rose straight up from the sea cliff and flared out at the top. Not an easy climb, even if she could figure out how, in the dark. She prowled the railing and found no way down at all. Fighting the helpless feeling growing in the pit of her stomach, Sam stood looking out at the sky and hoping to see a winged shape, darker than night, coming to get her.

(0)

Sam was looking out because she couldn't look down. The 'chess piece' shape of the tower prevented her from looking down. But if she had been able to see the ground she would have seen a lone figure climbing over the rocks in the shadows. Jack, with no other purpose in his mind than getting to Carter whatever it took. He had seen her standing on the upper balcony. He had also seen the flames flickering out the lower windows. Everything below Samantha was on fire. She was trapped up there.

Jack came around the shadowed, rocky side of the tower and moved onto solid ground. Kneeling by the base he unclipped his pack. It fell with a thud and he pulled it open, scattering equipment until he found the rappelling gear. He stripped down to just pants, his shirt and boots and put the rope over his shoulder. Grimly he began running his hands over the stone and metal until he found his first handhold. It had been a long time since he had free climbed anything and he was going to hurt like hell in the morning, but he was determined to be alive to feel the pain – and that Carter would be right there with him.

Jack hoisted himself up, found a place for his left hand and hung there for a moment. He sought a place for his left foot and found it, a little further away than he would have liked but it was there. His right foot found a spot and then he was reaching up, searching for a new handhold.

The next long moments of his life became a simple litany – foothold, handhold, push, pull, _up. _There was nothing but the tropical breeze against the relentless backdrop of crackling flame. He had resolved not to look down but did inadvertently when his right foot slipped. A wave of vertigo swept over him, but he didn't panic. Jack O'Neill rarely panicked. When the wave was gone he was still clinging to the side of the tower. Resolving to keep his eyes where they belonged, Jack hoisted himself up to the next handhold.

_Handhold, foothold, avoid the window slits, keep going, UP. _The pain in his bad knee was rising. Probably at a 7.0 on the O'Neill pain meter. He ignored it. When it went off the scale he might pay attention to it _if _he had Carter back on the ground and out of this nightmare by then.

Try not to think that everything on the other side of the wall was on fire.

He was almost at the top when he paused for breath. He was breathing hard and holding on for life. A fall now would kill him. The tricky part was still ahead of him – out, nearly horizontal and over the edge and he'd be on the balcony.

_Please, please, let Sam still be there. Let her be alive….._

Gritting his teeth, he searched for his next handhold.

Up on the balcony, Sam _was_ beginning to panic a little. She was out of options. Putting her hand on the door she found that it wasn't really hot yet. The fire might not have reached the top of the tower. At the risk of feeding hot fresh oxygen to the inferno, Sam reached for the door handle and started to pull it open.

"Carter! _Don't!_"

Her CO's voice would have stopped her at any moment. In this moment, Samantha just whirled around in shock. Sweat dripping, arm muscles straining, Jack was hauling himself over the railing.

"Sir!"

"Unless you want to kill us both, don't open that door. The whole damned tower is on fire."

"I know! What are you doing here?"

Jack's practiced military eye took in her appearance in a single glance. There was a dark bruise forming on her jaw. The skin across her cheekbone was split open and bleeding.

If he ever found the bastard who had done that to her, Jack would tear him apart with both hands.

But right now they needed to survive. He paused while uncoiling the rope he'd dragged up with him.

"I wanted to ask you to come hang out with me," he said, sarcastically.

"They took my pack," Sam said.

"I figured." Jack tossed her one end of the rope."Start tying this in knots. We've only got one set of gear so we're going to have to do this the hard way."

"Yes, sir."

Jack considered ordering her to use the rappelling gear and let him take his chances with a free climb down. But he knew she'd argue; possibly even flatly refuse a direct order. He didn't want to rescue Sam only to have her brought up on charges of being insubordinate.

Sam moved with serene military efficiency, twisting the end of the rope into a solid knot. Inside, she was anything but serene. Her heart was throbbing and she was fighting tears.

_Jack._ Why had she ever been looking for rescue from above? Of course it would be Jack who would climb up here against impossible odds, with a bad back and 'sketchy' knees to get her. He was her hero, her champion. She wanted to fling her arms around him and never let go.

Which of course she couldn't do, so she concentrated on tying knots in the ends of the rope while he found the middle and secured it to the railing.

Jack looked her square in the eye then.

"Just like we practiced this a hundred times, right?" he said.

"I think it was more like four hundred, sir," she said.

Sam tossed the ends over the cliff and gathered one side of the rope in her hands. She put it between her legs, and under her right cheek and then up across her chest. From there it went over her left shoulder, around her back and under her right arm across her abs. By the time she finished, Jack had fashioned his likewise around his own body.

"Okay, take your time," he said.

"Sir, with respect, the tower is on _fire."_

Jack considered that for only a moment.

"Okay," he said, "New plan. Best possible speed."

"Yes, sir."

In the midst of the descent, in spite of his back roaring with pain and the tower threatening to collapse at any moment, Jack had a moment of extreme pride that threatened to overwhelm him. Sam let the rope out and slid down it a little at a time as if she had been doing it her entire life.

_God, Sam. _ His heart ached, causing him more pain that his shrieking knee.

They were going to get closer to the ground, but Jack knew they were going to run out of rope before they did. He was bracing himself for whatever distance they were going to have to fall when, out of the darkness below, two forms could be seen emerging.

"O'Neill!"

The sound of Teal'c's voice brought a surge of hope; which was good because he and Sam had reached the knotted ends of the rope with a good nine feet still to go.

"Teal'c!" Jack hollered back.

"You will both have to jump, O'Neill," Teal'c said, rather unnecessarily.

"We'll catch you!" Daniel's voice.

"You'll break our fall you mean," Jack corrected, not liking the idea at all.

"You gotta better idea?" Daniel demanded.

"Sir!" Sam chimed in and everything she wanted to say was in her voice. She didn't like it one bit.

Part of the tower above them exploded outward. Flames lit up the sky. Screams and the sounds of panicked voices reached them on the tropical air.

"No choice, Carter," Jack said."Aim for Daniel."

"Come on, Sam," Daniel urged.

It was a leap of faith if she had ever taken one. Sam let go of the rope and fell.

The next thing she knew she was laying on top of Daniel and they were both sprawled on the ground. Slightly dazed and winded, she still managed to roll off him.

"Are you all right?"

Daniel sat up, nodding. Reeling a little, they got to their feet and saw Jack and Teal'c doing the same thing.

"Where are Mallory and Davidson?" Jack demanded.

"They have been taken to the sea cliff by the Faelan," Teal'c responded.

Jack grunted. Teal'c and Daniel should have been heading for the cliffs too but Jack wasn't going to holler about it. At least not now. He could chew them out later.

They wasted no more time on conversation, simply grabbing Jack's pack and running for cover into the night.


	17. Chapter 17

**Epilogue**

Daniel strode through the Star Gate about one step ahead of Mallory and Davidson. He didn't need to look up to know that Jillian and Scotty and Hammond were up in the Control Room anxiously looking down. But he did look up. He needed to see Jillian as much as she needed to see them. Their eyes met through the window, so heated he was shocked they didn't melt the glass. He often wondered how his glasses survived the looks they gave each other. He saw the relief flooding her features and then she turned, put her hand in the middle of Scotty's back and urged him towards the stairs. They vanished from view as Hammond's voice came over the intercom.

"Welcome back, Dr. Jackson, Mallory, Davidson. Where is the rest of SG1?"

"They're fine, sir," Daniel answered. The ramp clanked heavily under their feet as they descended. "Well, Sam's a little banged up. But she'll be fine." He added the disclaimer quickly because Jack had been fussing over Sam in his own snarly, rough-edged way – _Carter! Quit lifting stuff with that shoulder or I'll tie you to the Gate until we're ready to go_! - and Sam was holding back her temper about it with sheer military discipline. _Yes, sir. I'm fine, sir. _

_Can he do that? _Daniel had whispered to Teal'c.

_If he does not, _Teal'c's voice was a lion's purr,_ I will restrain her myself._

He understood their rabid need to take care of each other. Jack and Teal'c had snapped and snarled at him often enough in the past. But Daniel didn't want Sam to come back home and walk straight into Hammond's paternal concern on top of all that. He went on quickly, "They're packing up the F.R.E.D. We need to contact the Tok'ra right away. We made some new allies but there's a Goa'uld extraction we need to take care of to seal the deal."

From his position at the control console, Harriman spoke up,

"I'll get right on that, General." His hands were already moving. Daniel took a moment to wonder if Walter ever went home. It seemed like no matter when they came back, Walter was there.

He was almost more reliable than Hammond.

"New allies are always welcome, especially with the endorsement of SG1," Hammond said. "SG8, I want you in the Infirmary."

"Respectfully, sir," Mallory said, "We'd both really like to call our wives first."

Hammond nodded but said, "I've already let them know you were both all right and on your way home."

"Thank you, sir," both men said at the same time. Then Mallory said, "I still better call her myself, sir, or there will be hell to pay."

"Umm, me too," Davidson admitted sheepishly.

Hammond had too much self control to smile out right but they all saw the amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"I understand."

At that moment Scotty and Jillian burst through the doors. Scotty – who still looked exactly like the sun bronzed, blue-eyed, blond California surfer he had once been – was grinning from ear to ear. He looked like he wanted to hug everyone in the room but settled for a disciplined and enthusiastic military salute.

"Sirs," he said.

"Airman," Davidson grinned back.

Mallory didn't get to say anything. Unashamedly a female civilian, Jillian launched at him and wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck.

"Mal! Oh, thank _god_."

Looking pleased and embarrassed all at the same time, Mal laughed a little, hugged her back and then stood her forcefully away from him. He swept a disgruntled eye from her bruised face to the arm she still had in a sling while her shoulder healed. He shot an equally disapproving look at Scotty's butterfly stitched cuts and bruises.

"You both okay?"

"Still standing, sir," Scotty answered.

Jillian had switched from Mal to Rusty, hugging him fiercely.

"You both scared the hell out of us," Jillian said and Scotty nodded.

"Well you sent the best team of St. Bernards after us that you could," Mal said.

Jillian looked at last at Daniel. Her heart skidded to a halt, lurched and then leapt into a mad, unsteady rhythm. He looked tired. His face was streaked with dried sweat and dust. His hair was stiff and spiky as a hedgehog.

But he was grinning too, blue eyes gleaming as if he had just given her the best present _ever_.

Which he had.

"_Daniel_," she whispered and a dozen different emotions colored those simple syllables; beginning with relief, running through gratitude and awe, and ending somewhere near happiness.

Green eyes bright with passion, Jillian walked straight into Daniel's arms. He tucked her under his chin, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and closed his eyes.

"I thought I asked you to go read some ancient writing," Jillian's voice was muffled against his shoulder. She tilted her head up to look at him. "I don't remember asking you to march into a Goa'uld stronghold."

Daniel smiled at her, but didn't really meet her eyes.

"Well" he hedged, looking briefly at the gray floor. "We didn't exactly march." He paused and shrugged and held her tighter, mindful of her injured shoulder. "You asked me to go get your team. That's where they were."

He pulled her close again, avoiding the anxious look in her eyes – the look that searched for hurt he wasn't admitting to, for injuries he might be hiding. He was immediate and real, enfolding her in warmth and strength. The scents of a foreign world and hard work rose from him.

It took them a moment to realize they were suddenly alone in the Gate Room.

"I need a shower," he said, but made no move to let her go.

"Want some company?" she asked.

His breath hitched in his chest. A warm, delicious shiver trembled down his spine.

"What about your shoulder?" he asked.

"It could use a nice massage," she answered.

He nuzzled her hair for a moment, inhaling.

"Then….ummmm. Yeah," he said, "That would be nice."

(0)

Sam stood next to her father, Jacob, and his blended symbiote Selmac, at the observation window overlooking the isolation room. The woman in the bed was still incredibly lovely, even with her heavy Egyptian make up removed and wearing only a utilitarian green infirmary gown. She was lying on her side since, as they had learned, it was difficult for Trevithians to lie on their backs. Her black wings were folded tightly and she was holding onto Solivar as if she would never let him go.

"You did what your father calls a 'good thing'," Selmac said. His deep voice reverberated.

Sam gave him an affectionate smile.

"I think it was the Tok'ra that did the good thing here; and thank you for not insisting on the removal ceremony. I'm not sure the Trevithians would have understood the delay. They've been without Gabrielan for quite a long time. I think the Tok'ra have a valuable ally now," she paused, losing the military 'distance' in her voice, "And I'm glad it was you that they sent."

Selmac's answering smile was just as affectionate.

"Deny Jacob a chance to see his daughter? I'd have never heard the end of it; and considering our relationship I do mean _never."_

Sam laughed. Selmac closed his eyes briefly, which Sam knew he didn't have to do. But it had become a signal that Selmac was surrendering control back to her father and she appreciated it.

"He's right," Jacob said. "I'd have made his life a living hell."

The door clicked open to admit Daniel and Jillian. Jillian went to stand next to Sam. Daniel moved in behind her, wrapped his arms around her and leaned his chin on her hair.

"How are they doing?" he asked.

"Fine, it seems. They haven't asked for anything. Solivar hasn't left her, even when she was asleep. I've been told there is a whole bunch of Trevithians demanding to come through the Gate to see her," Sam answered.

"Just two of them have caused a sizable uproar," Jacob observed, "Imagine a whole bunch."

"Just when you think you've seen everything," Daniel said.

"I don't think I'll ever say that again," Sam said.

She and Daniel shared a communicative glance. For all its dangers and mysteries, it was actually a big, wide, _wonderful_ Galaxy when all was said and done and _they_ got to play in it. She smiled. Daniel looked serene for a moment.

She looked hopefully at her father, "You'll go to 328 when we go back? To help with the beginning of the alliance?

"I think we could spare some time for that," Jacob answered.

Sam looked at Daniel. "Are Gareth and Faelan still with the General and Col. O'Neill?"

"Yes," Daniel answered.

"Is that good?"

"I hope so," Daniel said.

Drily, Jillian said, "They better work something out! He's already got a rough draft of the treaty started."

Sam shot Daniel a look, but he only shrugged and smiled a bit sheepishly. He looked back through the window at the brother and sister who were holding hands and speaking earnestly to each other, oblivious of the rest of the world.

Jillian reached behind her to brush her fingertips against Daniel's cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She could feel his heart pounding against her back, beating in a rhythm that mixed joy with sorrow. So many they had saved from the Goa'uld; so many they had recovered. Only one they – _he!_ – had lost.

The muscles in his arms tightened just enough for the movement to show, squeezing her in gratitude for her understanding.

"Yes," he said.

Sam saw the exchange between them and offered Daniel her own sympathetic look.

The door snicked open again so that Teal'c and O'Neill could join them. Moments later, Gareth and Faelan appeared in the room below them to exchange clasped hands with Solivar and relieved embraces with Gabrielan.

"How's the shoulder, Carter?" Jack asked.

Through gritted teeth, Sam answered, "It's fine, sir."

"What happened to your shoulder?" Jacob demanded.

Sam rolled her eyes and stared fixedly at the Trevithians.

"First she smacked it on the floor during her escape, and I'm pretty sure it was the only part of her that didn't land on me when she jumped nine feet off a burning tower," Daniel said.

Sam's head whipped around and speared Daniel with a look that clearly said _traitor._

"You want to tell me about that, Sam?" Jacob asked, trying to sound casual.

"No," Sam replied, shortly, then added, "sir."

Jack stared at her for a few minutes, but she refused to look back. Then he asked,

"Where's the rest of your team, Jillian?"

"They've all gone home, sir," Jillian replied. "Even Scotty, though I think he was going out to O'Malley's with some friends first."

Daniel snorted. "When did you start calling him sir?"

"Since he rescued half my team."

"Hey," Daniel said, with a hurt expression Jillian hoped was faked, "He didn't do it alone."

She twisted in his arms to look up at him.

"You want me to start calling you sir?"

Daniel whispered something in her ear that was most likely not in English, given the little the other occupants of the room managed to catch. Jillian laughed and then blushed like a summer sunrise.

"Daniel," Jack said, drawing his attention.

Curious eyes blinked at him from behind the owlish glasses.

"Take the last member of SG8 home for a while." Jack said it softly but it had the flavor of an order.

"But," Daniel looked slightly panic stricken, " but, we might still be in negotiations with 328. What if we get called to go back there?"

"Then I'll call you," Jack said, "Nothing will fall apart if you go home."

Daniel started to argue a little more, then caught the hopeful look in Jillian's eyes.

"I'd like to go home," she said, "All this underground living has destroyed my circadian rhythms. I'm not even sure if it's day or night right now."

Looking into her exhausted eyes and the bruises just fading on her pale skin, Daniel was utterly undone. Surrendering he said,

"My place or yours?"

Jillian shrugged. "Either. You pick."

She turned and gave Sam a brief hug.

"Thank you," she said.

Sam nodded and smiled a little.

Then Jack, and even Teal'c, got the same treatment – a brief hug and words filled with sincere gratitude. But they all knew there were just no words for making certain that no one got left behind. They had all become more than military teams. They were family.

Daniel and Jillian left the room. After a moment, Jack clapped his hands together and said,

"Okay, who else thinks O'Malley's sounds good? Steaks. A few pitchers of beer?"

"Selmac is intrigued."

"I bet," Jack said.

"I'd be up for a game of pool," Sam said, as they filed out of the room, "What do you say, Dad? We haven't played in a while."

"Won't your shoulder be a handicap?"

"Are you kidding?" Sam asked."I'm going to kick your butt…. Sir."

(0)

_Finis_


End file.
